The Ordeal
by prophet87
Summary: Sequel to "A Spider's Web: A Green Arrow Story." Captured and his secret identity revealed, Oliver fights to survive as Lex's prisoner. Meanwhile, Chloe vows to find out the truth about what really happened to Oliver - and puts her life in danger.
1. Chapter 1: Desolate

This is the third part of my trilogy of Green Arrow stories, the first two being "Target: Green Arrow" and the second "A Spider's Web: A Green Arrow story." This picks up where "Spider's Web" left off – if you haven't read it, or can't remember, here's a summary.

Lex captured AC and used a cocktail of drugs to take control of his mind. He then allowed AC to be rescued by Oliver and the other members of the League, AC apparently escaping unharmed. Meanwhile Chloe and Oliver's relationship blossomed, as they acknowledged their love for each other and decided to go public with their relationship. Oliver promised to take Chloe to Paris for a romantic visit, but first decided to accompany AC to Rio to check out a LuthorCorp Facility. It was a trap –the Green Arrow was betrayed by AC, who helped Lex's henchwoman Rachel Akunin to capture him. His identity still a secret, the Green Arrow was taken to Metropolis, where he was brought before Lex. Lex at last learnt that Oliver Queen is the Green Arrow, and imprisoned him in a cage, where he taunted him by telling him that no one will come to his rescue – AC had been reprogrammed, and will tell everyone that the Green Arrow is dead.

This story begins with Chloe dealing with the news of Oliver's supposed death.

* * *

**Chapter One: Desolate**

"_He's gone, Chloe."_

How long ago had she heard those words fall from Clark's lips? It could have been minutes, or perhaps hours – she had no idea. Time seemed so inconsequential – indeed, everything seemed so unimportant now in the face of the terrible truth that bore down on her like a heavy weight, dragging her deeper and deeper into the abyss. Her mind swirled with a blizzard of a thousand and one emotions, each one more painful, more desolate than the last. Yet outwardly there was little sign of the turmoil that engulfed her as she stood on the balcony of the Queen penthouse, staring out across the rooftops of the city. Like a statue, she appeared rooted to one spot, unable to move, her eyes staring, but not seeing. Only the grip of her hands on the railings, so tight that her knuckles were bleached white from the force that she silently exerted in order to steady herself, and her tear stained cheeks gave a clue as to the depth of the grief that now consumed her.

_This is a dream, right? A terrible nightmare. I'm going to wake up in a minute and he's going to be there, cradling me in his arms and telling me everything is going to be alright. He'll smile that smile – so warm, so effortless – and my fairytale reality will continue. _

The thought of Oliver's smile caused Chloe's features to crumple, fresh tears following the paths of so many already shed down the sides of her cheeks. Every time she thought of him, visualised him in her mind's eye, a new wave of agony seemed to surge through her, emanating somewhere deep within her and spreading through every fibre of her being like some deadly toxin. Would it always be like this? She could not imagine that it would ever change – that she would ever be able to think of him without feeling an aching pain of almost physical intensity. For this was no nightmare – at least not the sort that it was possible to wake up from. This was reality – cold, hard, inescapable.

Oliver Queen was dead.

For what must have been something like the thirtieth time she replayed the awful moment when Clark had broken the news. Those few, short words – _he's gone, Chloe – _how was it possible that something so profound, so devastating, could be communicated with such simplicity? Somehow she felt as if the moment deserved more – something more dramatic, something more in keeping with the loss they had all suffered. It was a foolish thought, of course. There was nothing glamorous about death, and no requirement that its aftermath should be anything other than what it was – empty and hollow. She had felt so numb at the news that she had barely taken in what Clark had told her about how the man she loved had met his death, but had listened dumbly as he related what he'd learnt from AC. He and Oliver had checked out the LuthorCorp warehouse down in Rio and found it empty, save for some unmarked barrels of chemicals. They'd decided to blow it up, and separated to set the charges. AC was just finishing rigging the explosives outside the building, when there was a massive explosion which had knocked him unconscious. When he'd come to he was confronted with a blazing inferno – and no sign of Oliver. He'd searched desperately to find his friend, but to no avail. After hours of waiting, hoping that Oliver would be found, AC had been unable to avoid the truth any longer – the Green Arrow was gone.

Oliver had died in an accident, killed by his own explosives. It seemed so banal - such a stupid way to die. No glory, no sacrifice – just a moment of carelessness. Somehow that made it all the more painful, as it felt as if he'd lost his life for nothing. _Surely it can't end like this? All this pain, all this waste, it must have some meaning, right?_

Suddenly Chloe became aware of a presence next to her on the balcony. She turned, to find Clark standing a couple of feet away, his face etched with concern.

"Hey," he said softly, "Are you okay?"

It was a dumb question, and they both knew it. But all words seemed inadequate at that moment, as their worlds seemed to be crashing down around them. Clark had lost a friend, a man he had increasingly seen as the older brother he'd never had. Oliver had shown him something of what his own future might be. He'd fought for what he'd believed in, not with the protection of any powers, but simply with his own innate sense of justice and decency. He'd been a good man, a man who had exuded an air of invulnerability, and that was what made his sudden death so shocking. Clark felt the pain of loss, but he knew it was nothing when compared to the agony that Chloe must be experiencing. He wanted to help her, to tell her it would be okay, but he knew that nothing he could do would come close to soothing the wound of loss that now cut deep into his friend's heart. He felt impotent, helpless – not even Kal El could save her from this nightmare.

Chloe looked at him for a moment, seemingly paralysed. She could feel another wave of emotion flooding through her, and suddenly she flung herself into his arms, burying her head deep into his chest. Instinctively Clark wrapped his arms around her, offering the physical protection that was a poor substitute for the emotional comfort she was crying out for. She started to sob, her body convulsing uncontrollably as the presence of Clark seemed to allow for a release of pain which had been building for some minutes.

"I loved him, Clark – I loved him more than I thought it was possible to love anything in the world." Her voice sounded terrible – contorted with an unspeakable grief that felt as if it had been summoned from the very jaws of hell.

"I know," he replied, his own voice cracked with emotion. "I know."

And so they stood, two friends united by loss. The unthinkable had happened, and the man who had touched both their lives, the man whose life-force had seemed so vibrant, was no more.

Oliver Queen – billionaire, vigilante, hero, friend, lover – was dead.

* * *

Well, here we go again! As some of you may remember, I wasn't sure whether I'd write this third instalment – interest in my stories seemed to be dropping off, people weren't leaving much feedback, and the demands of writing a chapter a week were getting me down. However, I have in the end decided to go for it. Why? First and foremost, because of some of the amazingly supportive comments that you all wrote saying you really wanted another story – I was genuinely touched by what some of you wrote, and this story would not be happening had you not taken the time to be so positive and complimentary. Secondly, in the last month so many ideas have developed in my mind about where I want this third story to go. I've got some plot twists in mind that are really exciting me, and I can promise you lots of angst and action in the weeks ahead, and maybe – maybe – a character death. And a happy ending? Again, maybe….

In the coming weeks the action is going to shift back and forth between Chloe's quest for the truth and Oliver's fight for survival. I hope you are going to like it, and please, please, please leave me some feedback – keep me inspired through the winter months that lie ahead!


	2. Chapter 2: Resolutions

**Chapter Two: Resolutions**

Chloe's eyes opened, and she found herself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling high above her. It was not yet dark, and warm sunlight penetrated the curtains that hung at the window to the left of the bed on which she now lay. For a split second – was it even that long? – her mind remained free of the turmoil that had engulfed just hours before, and she lay motionless on her back as her mind and body adjusted once more to consciousness.

And then it hit her.

Like an avalanche of pain and emotion, memories of the day's events swept through her, banishing those few precious moments of peace that had accompanied her waking. _He's gone! _Never would she have believed that two simple words would have had such power to transform her life, to crush so absolutely the dreams and hopes that had made the last few weeks so magical. And yet it was true – and no amount of sleep, no amount of time, seemed as if it would ever be able to salve the gapping wound that now seemed physically to have cut her heart in two.

She sat up, and found that she was lying on top of a bed, fully clothed. All around on the floor lay discarded clothes and magazines, the detritus of teenage life. She was in Bart's room, carried there in the arms of Clark when the reality of her loss had become too much for her to bear. He had stayed with her, of course, until finally she had slipped into a fitful sleep, exhausted by the anguish that felt as if it was never-ending. Again he'd been there for her at her moment of greatest need, his simple inner strength somehow helping her to survive what seemed unendurable. He'd brought her here, of course, because he knew that the sight of Oliver's bed, with all its memories of intimacies shared and of a love that appeared to be without equal, would have been too much for her broken heart to face. Clark's understanding knew no bounds – if she was to come through this nightmare, she would need him more than she had ever needed him before.

She got up and walked towards the door, hesitating as she took hold of the handle. Beyond lay the penthouse, and all the memories that space brought with it – memories that were at once both beautiful and suffused with pain. Taking a deep breath as she summoned up the courage to face whatever now lay in store for her, she opened the door and stepped into the large open plan area which lay beyond.

The penthouse looked as it always looked, its modern contemporary feel apparently natural and effortless, like the man who had created it. But without Oliver it felt soulless, empty. The furniture was the same, but the vibrant atmosphere that had once pervaded the place was gone, to be replaced by an almost palpable sense of loss and oppression. All the guys were there – Clark, Victor, Bart, AC – but there was no conversation, no sense of movement or energy. They sat spaced around the room, each seemingly lost in thought, their faces dark with loss and grief. Bart was slumped in a chair, his eyes red raw from the tears that he had shed over the loss of his friend. The sight of the teenager, so clearly distraught at the news of Oliver's death, reminded Chloe that the pain she felt was not unique – Oliver had touched many lives, and every person who sat in that room had cause to thank him for giving them a sense of purpose, a sense of meaning. Oliver had saved them all – both literally and metaphorically – and now he was gone.

Chloe walked across to the kitchen area, where AC sat on a stool, his head in his hands. She'd not had an opportunity to speak to the young hero since he'd returned from Rio with his terrible news, and the sight of the big man so obviously suffering somehow moved Chloe more than anything else. He'd been with Oliver at the end, and she instinctively knew that he would be blaming himself for what happened. She wanted to comfort him, and at the same time she felt an overwhelming need to be with the person who was the last to see Oliver alive, as if in some way being close to him brought her closer to Oliver.

Standing next to him, she placed a reassuring hand on his back. He lifted his head and turned to look at her, his eyes, like Bart's, red with tears.

"Chloe, I'm so sorry. I tried to find him, but I couldn't, I just couldn't…" he began, his voice choked with emotion.

"I know," she said, surprising herself with the calm strength with which she spoke the words. "Oliver knew the risks, and I know you did everything you could to save him. Sometimes things just happen, and there's nothing we can do to change that."

"But if I'd gone inside to set the charges with him, then maybe…" AC's voiced cracked, and Chloe could see tears welling up in his already bloodshot eyes.

"Hey, you couldn't have done any more, okay?" she interrupted, gently taking placing her hand on the side of his head and pulling him close against her chest. "He loved you, you know that? He loved you like a little brother. You must never forget that, AC, never."

Tears ran down AC's face as Chloe hugged him close. Her words felt almost like forgiveness, a forgiveness he felt he desperately needed. Oliver was dead, and however much he tried to convince himself otherwise, he felt responsible. What if he'd gone into the warehouse instead of Oliver? What if they'd both gone inside? What if he'd come to quicker? What if? What if? He'd replayed those terrible moments so many times in his head, wondering if he could have done something different. But his memory was confused, blurred. In recalling the events surrounding the explosion his memories felt strange, _unreal. _He thought it must be the trauma, the after-effects of being knocked unconscious, but at times it was if he was remembering the events as a detached observer, rather than as a participant. He'd struggled to identify what it was that made him so uncomfortable at first, but then he'd realised – _he could see himself in his memories._ How could that be? Something was wrong inside his head, but he didn't know what….

As Chloe held AC close she looked around at the others, sitting silently with their own private grief. The team that Oliver had worked so hard to build up appeared broken, its heart ripped out by the loss of its leader. _Oliver would never have wanted this – he would not have wanted it to end this way._ A new emotion stirred within her, anger now mixing with the rawness of her loss. Lex had done this – he was the man responsible for all their pain, all their anguish. It was Lex who had forced Oliver to take up the mantle of the Green Arrow, and it was Lex who had forced the man she loved to risk his life for the cause of justice. And that cause had now claimed his life – Lex might not have been there, might not have pulled the trigger, but he might just as well have. He had Oliver's blood on his hands, and a powerful wave of emotion flowed through Chloe's body as she thought of him sitting in his mansion, even as they grieved for the loss of a man who was worth a thousand Lex Luthors. It seemed impossible that evil could triumph, that Lex could live whilst Oliver was dead – the thought was not just impossible, it was _obscene_.

Oliver's death could not – must not – be in vain. At that moment there was a clarity in Chloe's mind that she had not felt since she had heard the news of his death. Oliver might be gone, but his mission would not die with him. She would honour the man she loved by seeing through to the end what he had started, and bring the House of Luthor to its knees.

She would avenge the death of Oliver Queen.

* * *

It was the silence that unnerved him the most.

For some reason the pitch blackness of his surroundings did not affect him; perhaps it was the fact that it shrouded the reality of the bars that now encircled him, providing some form of shelter from the inescapable truth of his imprisonment. But the silence – the silence at times was almost unbearable. Perhaps it is because in a city you never really experience true silence, for even in the small hours of the morning there is always some sound to penetrate the darkness of the light – the ticking of a clock, or the sound of siren far off in the distance. But here – here there was nothing. Just an all pervading vacuum, enveloping everything in what seemed at times like a silent scream.

Of course there was one sound that punctured the nothingness – the sound of Oliver's labored breathing. He tried hard to maintain an even rhythm, his lungs inhaling and exhaling as calmly as was physically possible. It was not easy, and not just because of the duct tape that was wrapped so tightly around his mouth; at times the silence seemed to eat into his very being, causing a panic to build within him that threatened to destroy the equilibrium that he knew he must maintain if he was to survive. He could not afford to panic, to lose control – that way lay ruin and despair. He had to keep it together, because he knew that he would need all the mental strength he could muster to survive whatever tortures Lex had planned for him.

Every muscle in his body seemed to ache in a way he'd never experienced before. The beatings he'd received from Lex and Carter had left him bruised and in pain, but those wounds were as nothing compared to the agony caused by his current plight. He hung suspended from the ceiling of his prison, his hands shackled high above him; his arms, forced to carry his whole weight, seemed to be stretched to the point where Oliver thought they would quite literally be torn from his shoulders. Every sinew felt twisted, contorted, the pain so excruciating that at times Oliver felt as if his muscles were on fire. Physically he knew that he was at the limits of his endurance – and this was just the beginning.

He had no idea how long he'd been there, but it must have been hours. At some point exhaustion had overwhelmed him, and he had fallen into a fitful sleep. The escape from reality had not lasted long – Lex had no intention of allowing him to rest, and the manacles that now cut into his wrists were designed to soften him up for the tortures to come. And what would those tortures be? He had no idea, but one thing was certain – he was not to be given a quick death. Lex wanted to break him, slowly, painfully – and there was nothing he could do to escape that terrifying reality.

How had it come to this? He was the good guy, the hero – how could the villain win? Lex was right, of course – the real world is no comic book, and there are no guarantees that justice will prevail. But to be defeated so comprehensively – that Oliver still struggled to come to terms with. Lex had not simply captured him, but he'd faked his death – there would be no rescue, no last gasp triumph of the Justice League. He thought of the guys who even now must be hearing news of his "death" from AC. The thought of the young man who had so ruthlessly been abused and manipulated to bring about his capture angered Oliver – he didn't deserve what Lex and that bitch Akunin had done to him. At least he was safe – he had to be, for Lex's plan to work. AC would go on, they'd all go on, fighting evil and working to bring down Lex and 33.1. They were strong, he knew that – strong enough to carry on the fight without him.

And then there was Chloe. If things had turned out differently they would have been on their way to Paris by now, but instead she would be grieving his loss. The thought of her mourning his death, weeping in Clark's arms, caused another wave of emotion to sweep through his body. Hers was such a beautiful spirit, such a pure spirit, and to think of her in pain and him impotent to comfort her was too much to bear. Tears welled up in his eyes as he thought of her smiling face, and the warmth of her body next to his after they had shared a night of intimacy together – she had made him complete, and worse than any torture that Lex could inflict on him was the knowledge that he would never hold her in his arms again.

He thought of the photo of the two of them together, taken just before his last mission, and which now lay in an inside pocket of his tunic, pressed close against his chest. Somehow it gave him comfort, hope even – whatever was to happen, he still had that precious image to sustain him, to help him through.

He would never give up fighting, whatever happened; he'd face whatever Lex had in store for him with courage. He owed it to the guys, who had given up so much to help him with his crusade, and above all he owed it Chloe, the woman who had allowed him his one glimpse of true happiness.

Suddenly there was the sound of a door opening, somewhere off in the distance. Oliver's body tensed, before the room was flooded with light.

"So Mr Queen, are you ready for your treatment? We're eager to get started."

The ordeal was about to begin.

* * *

First of all, I want to say a **MASSIVE **thank you to all those of you who have taken the trouble to review and offer words of support and encouragement. I'm amazed at how complimentary you all are, and I cannot tell you how appreciative I am - the fact that this story is happening is very much down to you. Please keep giving me feedback - I love to hear what you think, and sometimes you inspire me with new ideas and directions for stories.

I've got so many ideas for where I want to take this - if you like angst and drama, then I hope you're going to enjoy the ride!


	3. Chapter 3: An Unexpected Opportunity

**Chapter Three: An Unexpected Opportunity**

As Chloe sat in front of her computer at the Planet she could not help but think back just twenty-four hours, when she had sat in that very same chair as she had desperately tried to meet her editor's deadline. Then the world had seemed just perfect; a trip to Paris with Oliver had been just hours away, only the first of many romantic visits she had then expected to spend with the man with whom she was so very much in love.

How much can change in the space of just one day.

Oliver was gone, and all her dreams lay in ruins. The anguish of the last few hours had left her emotionally exhausted, but somehow it felt good to be back at her desk. There was the comfort of the familiar, and besides, it was good to get out of the penthouse, filled as it was with memories of him. She needed to keep active, to fend off the demons of melancholy that seemed to stalk any idle moment. And now she had a mission – a reason to carry on. With every minute that had passed since she had resolved to take down Lex, her sense of determination had grown, until it now bordered on an obsession. This was how she would honour the memory of Oliver, by completing his mission to destroy 33.1 and bring Lex to justice. Maybe she was just postponing the grieving process, suppressing the natural rhythm of mourning by channelling her anger and energy into this quest, but she didn't care – the alternative, to sit alone and reflect on what might have been – well, that was just too terrible to endure.

Clark had warned her to take things easy when she left the penthouse. He could see what she was doing, and Chloe knew that he had her best interests at heart. Wise old Clark – he could always see right through her, understand her every action, her every mood. He didn't want her to go, but had not made much of an effort to stop her – perhaps he too realised that, whatever the dangers of displaced grief, she needed to be busy at this time. Indeed, they all needed to be busy, and perhaps that was why her decision to do something, however small, had prompted a surge of activity from the other guys. AC had agreed to take Victor and Bart down to the site of the explosion in Rio, to see what they could piece together about Lex's operation. The relief on their faces as they suited up had warmed Chloe's heart; the Justice League was back in action, just as Oliver would have wanted. Already she felt that in some small way she was fulfilling his legacy, giving the team that he had created the same sense of purpose that he had given it for so long.

It didn't take her long to find what she wanted on the net – contact information for the police in Rio. She did not really have any clear idea of where to start in her investigation into Lex, but his operation in Rio seemed as good a place as any. She needed to find out more about what he had been up to down there, and, more importantly, she needed to learn more for herself about exactly how Oliver had met his death.

After being passed from one operator to another, and having held the line for what seemed like an eternity, she finally found herself speaking to the officer in charge of the investigation into the warehouse explosion. He could tell her very little, and certainly didn't seem aware of any connection between the warehouse and LuthorCorp. The conversation appeared to be a dead end, until finally the officer signalled that the call was about to come to a close.

"_Is there anything else, Miss Sullivan?" _the voice asked.

Chloe paused, summoning up the courage to ask the question she knew she had to ask, but the answer to which she did not want to hear.

"Were there any casualties?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

"_I am sorry, I did not hear that. Would you mind repeating, please?"_

"Was anyone killed?" Her voice was stronger now, but strained; she braced herself for what was to come.

"_There was one fatality, yes. A man, probably in his late twenties or early thirties. Impossible to identify – the fire was so intense that there is very little left of the body."_

Chloe did not bother to reply, but quietly replaced the receiver. A strange feeling swept over her; it was if all the energy and purpose of the last two hours had come to a juddering halt, to be replaced by the paralysis of grief. It had been foolish to hope for a miracle, she'd known that – he was dead, and nothing could change that. But part of her _had _kept hoping, hoping that perhaps once again the Green Arrow had cheated death, and that Oliver had somehow escaped the inevitable. But now that hope was gone, the words of the Brazilian detective confirming what the rational half of her brain had known all along.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought of Oliver caught up in that inferno that had taken his life. She hoped that it had been quick – the idea of him suffering such a horrific end was too much for her to bear. She suddenly felt an overwhelming need to see his face, to feel once more the warmth of his presence. She fumbled in her bag, panic seizing her as for a few seconds she was unable to find it. But then it was there, and carefully she pulled the photo out so that she could look at it once more. It was the photo they'd had taken together just before he had left for Rio, and the tears flowed down her cheeks as she gazed once again on his smiling, beautiful face. She allowed her finger to gently pass over his image, as if touching it would bring her closer to him. It was pathetic, she knew that – but what else did she have? At that moment she felt as desolate and bereft as when she had first heard the news of his death.

"Chloe, are you okay?"

Instinctively Chloe thrust the photo back into her bag, as if it were some sacred object not to be shared with anyone. She quickly tried to brush the tears from her cheeks as she turned towards the familiar voice that came from behind her.

"Jimmy! Hi there! Just sorting a few things out, you know how it is." As Chloe said the words she knew how utterly unconvincing they were – her voice was cracked with emotion, and her cheeks still tear stained. No amount of forced light-heartedness would have fooled a stranger, let alone Jimmy Olsen.

Jimmy knelt down beside her, instantly aware of the pain that his friend was suffering. He reached out and took her hand, trying to offer the reassurance of human contact.

"Chloe, what is it? What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, I'm fine – just fine," she sniffed.

"Chloe Sullivan, you are not fine," said Jimmy, squeezing her hand a little harder. "Come on, you can tell me. I want to help, Chloe – what's wrong? Where's Oliver? Have you two had an argument, is that it?"

The mention of Oliver's name caused Chloe's face to visibly crumple with emotion. She could hold it in no longer – she had to tell someone, to share her grief.

"He's gone, Jimmy – Oliver's gone." Tears flowed down her cheeks as she said the words.

"What do you mean, he's gone? Chloe, you're not making any sense."

"He's dead – Oliver's dead."

As Chloe said the words Jimmy froze for a moment, uncertain about how to react. Then, saying nothing, he took Chloe in his arms and pulled her close. As Clark had done before, he sought to offer her the comfort and support he instinctively knew she needed; words were unnecessary, as once again Chloe surrendered to her emotions, and sobbed into the arms of a man she trusted to share her grief.

But Jimmy was not Clark, and as Chloe wept in his arms a strange mixture of emotions swept through the young photographer's mind. There was compassion, of course – to see Chloe in such pain affected him deeply too. She was such a beautiful, care-free woman, and to see her so distraught would have melted the coldest heart, let alone the heart of a man who had long loved her from afar. And there was shock – he'd not known Oliver that well, but for such a strong and apparently healthy man to suddenly lose his life was as unexpected as it was sobering. But there was another emotion – one that surprised Jimmy himself, and one that he felt guilt for feeling. He was _happy._ Yes, that was the right word for it – happy. For the last few weeks Jimmy had suffered in silence as he'd watched Chloe's relationship with the handsome billionaire blossom. Queen had been able to offer Chloe all that he couldn't – glamour, excitement, the society lifestyle. Oliver had swept her off her feet – and he'd been forced to smile as she'd shared her joy with him. And it had hurt – hurt so much. He'd loved Chloe for so long, dreamt of the day when she'd notice him – but that dream had seemed to perish with the arrival of Oliver Queen. But now Queen was dead, and Jimmy couldn't help himself – he felt _glad_. He knew it was wrong, but who knows? Perhaps out of Chloe's pain something new could grow, perhaps in the support and love that he showed her now, at this time of greatest grief, she might come to see that in fact her destiny lay in an entirely new direction….

* * *

"Thank you for letting me know, Inspector – I'm in you debt."

Lex snapped his cell shut, smiling a half smile as he did so. So what he'd expected had happened – Chloe Sullivan has started to nose around into the circumstances of Oliver's death. The young reporter was so predictable, and Lex felt pleasure that yet again he was one step ahead of the game. Paying off Detective Ramirez to give her false information about a charred corpse had been a wise move, and for a moment he thought of how she must have taken the news. She would be suffering, he knew that, but he felt no compassion – anyone who built a relationship with Oliver Queen deserved all they got.

He glanced across at the clock. It was time – Akunin and Dr Thomas should be about ready to start work on Oliver.

_Days don't come much better than this, _he thought to himself.

* * *

I know I normally update once a week, but just for once I thought I'd update more quickly. Thanks for reviewing - you know how much your thoughts mean to me, so please keep letting me know what you think!

I guess some of you were expecting an Ollie chapter - well that will come next, and I can tell you now things are going to get a whole lot worse for him before they get better (if they get better....). Did the arrival of Jimmy surprise you? He's got an important part to play in this story.....


	4. Chapter 4: A Deadly Promise

**Chapter Four: ****A Deadly Promise**

After so long in darkness the sudden flooding of the chamber with harsh electric light dazzled Oliver, and instinctively his eyelids shut to shield his eyes from the glare. They stayed shut; something within him told him to fake unconsciousness, and he allowed his head to rest motionless on his chest, as if exhaustion had overtaken him. Even as he did so he knew that it was pointless, and that whatever his captors had in store for him, it was now about to happen. However, the subterfuge gave him a few precious seconds of time, time that could be used for him to summon up the reserves of mental and physical strength he knew that he would now need to survive the ordeal that lay ahead.

It was Akunin's voice he had heard as the lights came on, and now as he listened he could hear her footsteps coming ever closer, the heels of her boots clicking crisply on the hard floor. The woman unnerved Oliver, more than he cared to admit. Lex's hate he could understand, even use as a weapon to be turned against his old school friend, and Carter was no more than a hired thug, a sadist in a sharp suit who got his kicks from torturing others. But Akunin – she was something different altogether. There was a coldness to her, an icy steel, that made her somehow all the more terrifying. It was she who had broken AC, and even when he had held her captive she had succeeded in getting under his skin, seeking out his weaknesses and vulnerabilities and exploiting them to devastating effect. She was a heartless killer, a woman who got her kicks from breaking men from within, and he was now entirely at her mercy, her next "project"; although he hated to admit it to himself, Oliver knew the truth – he was afraid of Rachel Akunin.

Akunin punched the access code into the keypad next to the gate to the cage, before stepping inside. She stood for a moment, gazing up at her prey who hung so helpless before her. A twisted smile curled on her lips as she thought of what lay ahead, the culmination of so many weeks of work. Breaking AC had been the hors d'oeuvre; now it was time to feast on the main course. And what a magnificent main course it promised to be! Oliver was everything she'd hoped the Green Arrow would be - tall and strong, perfectly shaped muscles filling every inch of his tight fitting leather suit. And his face – what a stunningly handsome face he had! No wonder he was the toast of the paparazzi, for he truly did have the features of a god; the strong jaw line, the sparkling brown eyes, the pure complexion, all crowned by that shock of casually styled blond hair.

_And he was hers_! Ever since she pieced together the mystery of the Green Arrow's identity she had fantasised about this moment, hardly daring it would come true. But it had – and Oliver Queen now hung before her, utterly without hope of rescue and entirely dependent on her for his survival. The Green Arrow, the mysterious, fearless crusader for justice, was her prisoner, her _toy – _and what games she had planned for him! Lex and Carter would break him physically, but she was interested in more than that – she wanted to break his soul. He would be a challenge, of that there could be no doubt. She'd done her research on Oliver Queen; orphaned as a child, marooned for two years on a desert island with nothing but his own ingenuity to help him survive, and now leading a double life as a costumed vigilante. Those experiences must harden a man, make him emotionally strong, but she would find his weakness, that chink in his armour that would allow her to get inside his head and slowly break him. And of course there was no hurry, for Queen wasn't going anywhere – like any fine meal, this course was to be savoured slowly, to be relished to the full.

"Come now, Mr Queen, don't be shy – I know you can hear me." Akunin's tone was playful, but laced with menace, like a cat toying with a mouse moments before it dug its claws into the tiny animal's fragile body.

Oliver did not move. Akunin stepped forward, so that she stood directly beneath the stricken hero.

"That was quite a reunion between you and Lex, you know – so good to see old friends getting reacquainted, don't you think?"

Stll there was no reaction. Akunin began to circle Oliver, all the time staring up at his body. Close up he was even more impressive, the stress placed on the muscles in his powerful upper arms forcing them to strain to their fullest extent. He was magnificent, but also exposed, vulnerable to any attack on his defenceless frame. The combination of masculine strength with the reality of weakness thrilled Akunin. She could not help herself; like a child reaching for the forbidden candy bar, she stretched out her hand, a frisson of excitement passing through her as she gently caressed the side of his leg, before allowing her hand to slip around to feel his firm, rounded ass. The leather felt smooth and warm to the touch, stretching taut across his exquisitely developed thighs and glutes.

"My, my, Mr Queen, it's true what they say – you really are a most magnificent specimen, aren't you? America's most eligible bachelor, the darling of the press – how will they cope without you, I wonder?"

Akunin's touch made Oliver's blood run cold, but he desperately tried to remain still, not wanting to give his tormentor the satisfaction of a reaction, however slight. There was a gentleness to the way her hand explored his defenceless body that was truly chilling; he knew her true purpose, her desire to break him, and to be objectified in such a way, the focus of her perverse desire, caused his gut to knot with fear.

Suddenly the hand was withdrawn. "Still, the world will move on to its next celebrity obsession," she continued. "And their loss is my gain, isn't it, Oliver?"

There was a moment's pause, Oliver sickened to hear his first name spoken with such malignant intimacy by his captor. Then suddenly, entirely without warning, he felt himself falling. Within a split second he hit the floor, his legs crumpling beneath him as he ended up prostrate in the center of the cell. It did not take him long to realise what had happened; Akunin had released the chains that had suspended him, signalling that the next phase of his ordeal could only be minutes away.

Having hung in the air for so long his muscles objected to so sudden a change in circumstances, and every one seemed to join together in a silent cry of pain. His arms in particular felt useless, the sinews of his biceps and triceps rendered momentarily impotent having been put under extreme stress for so long. He barely had time to register his new circumstances before he felt himself being flipped over on to his back, two strong thighs digging deep into his sides and pinioning his arms to his torso. He looked up – to find himself staring into the eyes of Akunin.

"I'm sorry about that, Oliver, but you were ignoring me, and I can't have my handsome hero ignoring me, now can I?"

Oliver stared up at the woman who now straddled him, his eyes blazing with defiance and hate.

"Ahhhh, but don't be angry with me," purred Akunin, placing a hand tenderly against the side of Oliver's face. Instinctively he tried to turn away, only to find himself grabbed by the hair and his head pulled upwards.

"Now, now, don't be shy, Oliver – let me look at that beautiful face of yours."

For a few seconds the two of them stared at each other, one intoxicated by a sense of overwhelming power, the other desperately trying to hide the fear that gripped his heart.

Akunin then reached towards her jacket pocket, pulling out a small knife.

"Now stay very still Oliver – Lex wants you undamaged, at least for now." She then placed the knife against the side of Oliver's face, carefully cutting through the layers of duct tape that had been used to gag him. Eventually she succeeded, then tearing the tape from Oliver's mouth.

"That's better, Oliver – you don't mind me calling you Oliver, do you? Mr Queen seems so formal."

"As long as I can call you sick bitch." Oliver's voice was cracked, parched through lack of water, but there was a defiance to his words.

Akunin chuckled. "Ahhh, Oliver, you never fail to disappoint me. The sculpted body, the beautiful face, the leathers, the bravado, and that oh so superior sense of right and wrong – you are every inch the hero, aren't you? The mighty Green Arrow, living out his comic book fantasy – well you're in my fantasy now, Oliver, and here, I make the rules."

Again she reached into her jacket, this time pulling out a bottle of water. She unscrewed the top, before holding it to Oliver's lips.

"Here – drink this," she ordered. After a moment's hesitation, Oliver allowed her to pour the water into his parched mouth, his need to slake his thirst overcoming any qualms he had about accepting an offer of aid from his tormentor. He drank greedily, draining the bottle in seconds.

"Of course this was how I broke your friend AC," said Akunin, as she drained the last drops of water into her captive's mouth. "Water was his weakness, and eventually his need to drink robbed him of his arrogance. A physical craving destroyed his heroic pretensions, reducing him to a pathetic, wimpering boy." She paused, carefully placing the bottle to one side before leaning in close to Oliver's face. She was just a couple of inches from him, her scent filling his nostrils as she searched his face for any sign of fear. "I wonder what your weakness will be, Oliver?" she whispered. "What will be the key to breaking the great Green Arrow? You'll be tougher than your friend, I know that, but I will find it – that weakness that will allow me to get inside that head of yours. It may take weeks, months even, but sooner or later I will find the key – and then you will be mine, Oliver Queen." As she finished speaking she leant in closer still, hovering over his lips for a split second. Then she kissed him, gently, tenderly, but with the lethal intent of a Black Widow sealing her promise with a touch of the utmost intimacy.

Her words had been barely audible, but they carried with them a terrible power. There was such certainty to them, Oliver had no doubt that Akunin was telling the truth. Physical torture he was prepared for, but she wanted to break his spirit, destroy his very soul – and now he had no doubt that, sooner or later, she would do it.

* * *

So things look bad for Ollie, and they're going to get a lot worse before they get better, I'm afraid. Thanks for reading, and a special thanks to all you wonderful reviewers - love you to bits! Please keep letting me know what you think - I love hearing from you!


	5. Chapter 5: Torture

**Chapter Five****: Torture**

"The doc is ready for him now."

Carter's voice, intruding from somewhere outside the cage, brought Akunin's torment of Oliver to an end, for the time being at least. She lingered for a moment, staring into his eyes and enjoying her exquisite triumph over her hapless prey. She knew that this would be the first of many such moments, as slowly she would take him apart, peeling away his veneer of invincibility, layer by layer. But for now it was enough – now it was Lex's turn.

She stood up, towering over Oliver's prostrate form. Soon she was joined by Carter and the other suited goon who had brought him to this living hell. The three of them looked down at him, their faces pictures of sadistic intent. Oliver instinctively knew that whatever Lex had in store for him, it was soon about to begin.

"Get him up," ordered Akunin. Each man then took one of Oliver's arms, dragging him to his feet and holding him upright. For a moment his vision blurred, the effects of lack of food taking its toll. But he soon found his balance, eventually standing unsupported before Akunin as the two guards relinquished their hold.

Akunin took a step towards him, her icy stare designed not simply to intimidate Oliver but to impress her minions.

"Take off your tunic," she ordered curtly, looking him directly in the eye.

No one moved. Oliver was uncertain where this was leading, but something within him told him not to comply, and he returned Akunin's stare.

"Take it off – or Carter here will take it off for you."

Suddenly Carter grabbed Oliver by the hair, pulling his head back.

"Do as she says, rich boy," he spat, clearly enjoying the power he was able to exercise over the young hero. He then pushed Oliver's head away, causing him to stumble to the side before regaining his footing.

There was no choice, and so Oliver slowly unzipped the front of his tunic, before slipping the leather uniform from his body. He then laid it carefully on the floor of the cage, taking care to keep the lining hidden; he did not want to run the risk of his captors seeing the top of the precious photo of Chloe poking out of the inside pocket. He then stood up. Dressed now above the waist only in his skin-tight black wifebeater, he felt strangely exposed; the tunic had empowered him, made him feel as if he _was _a hero, and without it he felt vulnerable, almost naked.

"Bring him."

Akunin turned and walked towards the door of the cage. The two men grabbed Oliver once more by the arms, and dragged him after her. Resistance was pointless, so Oliver cooperated; he knew that wherever he was going, he was going to need all the reserves of strength he could muster.

On leaving the cage the group turned left, circling round Oliver's prison and heading away from the main entrance to the chamber. Eventually they arrived at a small door, located exactly opposite to the main entrance in the far wall. Akunin punched another access code into the electronic keypad, before opening the door and stepping inside, closely followed by the others.

Oliver found himself in a much smaller room than the one which he had just left, but one which instantly caused a shudder to run down his spine. The cage had been bad enough, a prison designed to crush the spirit, but this was something far worse, and something which Oliver immediately recognised; this was a torture chamber. A casual observer might have mistaken the room for some sort of operating theater, with its gleaming white surfaces, trays of surgical instruments and bright electric lighting. But this was no place of mercy, no room in which lives were saved; the straps which lay waiting for their next victim on either side of the operating table served as ample testimony to that. Oliver knew the terrible pain that many of the victims of 33.1 experienced at the hands of Lex and his scientists – it was the knowledge of those crimes that had inspired him to take up his crusade against LuthorCorp. Now he was to fall victim to 33.1 himself – and he knew that from Lex he could expect no mercy.

A man in a white coat stood to one side of the room, turning as he heard the others enter. Oliver instantly recognised him as Dr Thomas, the man he had seen working on AC down in Rio and the man who had drugged him prior to his being brought here.

"Well doctor, here he is – the mighty Green Arrow, aka Oliver Queen," announced Akunin, clearly enjoying the moment. "Oliver, you remember Dr Thomas, don't you? His work on water-boy helped us to bring you here, of course. 33.1's leading scientist, and just think – from now on he's going to devote all his energies and expertise just on you."

Thomas took the three or four steps needed to bring him in front of Oliver. As he had done at the airstrip down in Rio, he said nothing, but simply examined Oliver intently from head to toe, looking at him dispassionately; chillingly, he reminded Oliver of some sort of forensic examiner, studying a murder victim before deciding where to make the first incision of an autopsy.

At last he spoke. "Mr Queen, it's a pleasure to meet you. It's not often I get to work on a celebrity, and especially not one in such peak physical condition as yourself." He spoke as you would expect a doctor to speak, with authority and reassurance – which made his true intentions seem all the more horrific.

"Yeah, well, it's not everyday I get to meet a sadistic torturer, so I guess we're even." Oliver had regained some of his confidence; he knew that within minutes this man would have him at his mercy, but he was determined to show no fear.

"You're a brave man, Mr Queen – I respect that." Thomas's tone was matter-of-fact, the doctor refusing to rise to Oliver's insult. "Of course so many of my 33.1 subjects are brave when I first meet them, but I soon take care of that. Take your friend Curry – so much youthful bravado! But he crumbled – just as you will crumble."

He looked at Carter.

"Restrain him."

Oliver was pulled backwards with considerable force, his back slamming hard into something metallic. For a moment he did not know what was happening, but a glance down at the leather straps which his captors were now reaching for told him the worst; he had been pushed back against the operating table, which Akunin had presumably tilted into a vertical position as he had had his encounter with the doctor. Instinct kicked in, and he started to struggle furiously with those who held him. Initially he had some success, managing to pull one arm free and being able to dig his knee hard into the gut of Carter's associate. The two guards had become used to their prisoner being compliant, and they were caught off guard by his sudden show of resistance, their problems compounded by the fact that they had not simply to hold Oliver but also to reach for the straps attached to the table. The exhilaration of success was short-lived, however; Oliver froze as he felt the press of a blade against his neck.

"Stay still, leather boy, or I'll cut that pretty little face of yours even before the doc's got to work on you." Carter delivered his chilling ultimatum within inches of Oliver's face, forcing the cold blade into his exposed flesh until it almost drew blood; his leering features left no doubt that he was in earnest.

Oliver complied, and he could only watch with an increasing sense of fear as first his wrists and then his ankles were placed inside the leather cuffs, which were then fastened tightly. A belt was then passed across his waist; again it was pulled tight before it was fastened into place, leaving Oliver little room for movement. Finally two straps were used to restrain his head, one passed across his forehead, the other fixed across his windpipe so that it almost constricted his breathing. He was immobilised; now he could only wait to learn his fate.

Their work done, Carter and the other man withdrew, only to be replaced by Akunin. She reached to the side of the table on which Oliver now lay and pressed a button. Immediately there was the sound of some sort of electric motor, and Oliver found himself tilting backwards as the table started to move. After a few seconds it came to rest, leaving Oliver lying at an angle of approximately thirty degrees from the ground.

Akunin placed a hand on Oliver's head, gently stroking his hair as she stared into his eyes.

"Not long to wait now, Oliver," she purred. "Just one more thing to do and then we'll be ready."

Out of Oliver's line of sight, she reached across to one of the instrument trays that lay close by. There was the sound of metal on metal, but, unable to move his head, Oliver could only wait to see what this last piece of preparation might be. His body tensed, and he could feel beads of perspiration starting to run down the sides of his head.

Then he saw it, the glint of metal in Akunin's hand as she once more stood over him. It was a scalpel, the sight of which caused Oliver's eyes to momentarily widen – memories of every second rate slasher movie he'd watched as a teenager flashed through his mind, as for an instant he envisaged himself being carved up by the psychotic killer who now stood calmly before him.

Fear had flashed across Oliver's eyes for only a split second, but that was enough for Akunin – she smiled as slowly, deliberately, she placed the tip of her forefinger against the tip of the blade, as if to test its sharpness. "Don't worry, Oliver, I'm not going to cut you up. Far too messy – and far too quick. Although," she paused, looking from the blade down at her tied up prisoner, "when you experience what Dr Thomas has in store for you, you'll probably wish I had." She then placed the scalpel just above his belt, allowing it to slip between his skin and his wifebeater, the sharp edge of the blade lifting the material an inch or so away from his flesh. "Now let's see just what a superhero keeps hidden under his vest, shall we?"

There was the sound of material tearing, a smooth and even sound as Akunin slipped the blade upwards, slicing Oliver's undershirt in half. It took only a second for her to complete the job, the material falling away to reveal the firm rounded shapes of Oliver's abdominal and pectoral muscles.

Akunin looked down at what her handiwork had revealed, her eyes lingering over his broad, strong pecs, before moving down to survey the smooth, undulating ridges of his abs. A sculptor could not have carved anything more beautiful, more masculine; Oliver Queen really was the embodiment of what a hero should be, and once again Akunin thrilled that he was now all hers, a toy to be played with at her will.

"Yet again you don't disappoint me, Oliver – quite the Adonis, aren't you?"

Oliver's gut turned over. He knew that Akunin wanted to break him from within, but it was becoming clearer and clearer that her designs on him extended beyond simply his mental destruction. She wanted to possess him, completely, absolutely, and with every new development he felt as if he was losing yet another layer of defence with which to keep her twisted desire at bay. Now he lay tied up and half naked before her, acutely conscious that he was more vulnerable and exposed than ever. Her greedy eyes seemed to covet his body like a piece of meat – whatever torture Thomas had in store seemed almost preferable to this women's sick games.

"Let's cut the foreplay, Akunin – if you're going to torture me, just get on and do it, okay?"

Akunin smiled, before placing the tip of her right forefinger against the exposed flesh of his lower abs. Slowly, seductively, she moved upwards, her finger tracing the contours of his tense, hardened muscles, until she reached his chest, where she allowed the palm of her hand to spread out across the expanse of flesh.

"Very well, Oliver, if that is what you want," she said quietly. "Doctor, the Green Arrow is eager to begin his first treatment – let's begin, shall we?"

At last Akunin stepped back, and Oliver visibly relaxed as at last her perverse touch was removed. The respite was shortlived, however, for within seconds Thomas loomed into view, a syringe in his right hand. Without a word he took hold of Oliver's arm and expertly eased the needle under his skin, penetrating a vein before slowly emptying the contents of the syringe into Oliver's bloodstream.

"What the hell are you giving me?" asked Oliver, watching helplessly out of the corner of his eye as the contents of the syringe were drained into his body.

"A combination of chemicals designed to heighten the body's sensitivity to external forces," said Thomas, turning and placing the empty syringe on a tray before looking back at Oliver. "Think of it as the opposite of an anaesthetic, Mr Queen. Where they seek to protect the body from pain by numbing the senses, what I have just given you will increase your receptiveness to pain by five or six times."

"So much for the Hippocratic Oath," quipped Oliver, trying to keep the fear from his voice. He felt strange, his nerve endings in his arms and across his chest starting to tingle; whatever Thomas had given him, it was working fast.

There was a few seconds pause, Oliver aware of Thomas moving about behind him. Then he reappeared, pushing a large trolley which he placed close to the gurney on which Oliver lay restrained. What lay on the trolley caused Oliver's blood to run cold: there, laid out neatly on a surgical tray, were at least twenty exceptionally fine needles, each four to five inches in length.

"You have heard of acupuncture, Mr Queen?" asked Thomas, picking up one of the needles and holding up to the light. "A branch of traditional Chinese medicine which seeks to relieve pain through the insertion and manipulation of filiform needles at certain points on the body which lay along the so-called meridian lines. What is less well known is that the principles of acupuncture can be used not simply to relieve pain, but also to induce it." He paused, allowing his last words to hang heavily in the air. "It is a fascinating area of study, Mr Queen – indeed, you could almost say it's something of a hobby of mine."

"Yeah? I think you need to get out more, doc," said Oliver, his eyes transfixed by the fine needle that Thomas was now holding aloft.

Thomas ignored Oliver's half-hearted attempt a humor. "The joy of this treatment, of course, it that it is clean – no blood, no marks on the body. But the pain it produces – well, those who have lived through it say words have not been created to describe the true horror of what they experienced."

To this Oliver had no reply. The moment had come – and he braced himself for the inevitable. The drug that Thomas had administered a minute or so before had now taken hold of his whole body, and Oliver could feel the sweat seeping from his pores as his muscles tensed, preparing for the torture that must now be only seconds away. But then something unexpected happened – instead of inserting the needle into Oliver's flesh, Thomas turned away, his head looking upwards. Oliver's eyes followed his gaze towards a large window set high in the wall opposite the operating table. The glass was darkened, but presumably some sort of observation room lay behind, and as Oliver looked, sure enough, the shadowy figure of a man could be made out, standing motionless.

Lex! It had to be. Oliver was not surprised; after all, having gone to all the trouble to bring him here, it would have been more surprising had Lex not turned up to witness the torture of his old friend first hand. And the darkened glass, the sense of drama – it all flattered Lex's ego, played to his sick sense of theater.

Lex's darkened form awakened something within Oliver. To this point, despite the knowledge of the torture he was to be subjected to, he'd tried to stay clam, maintain an outward appearance of stoicism in the face of the evil that now surrounded him. But the sight of Lex, albeit it through the filter of tinted glass, caused a wave of anger to surge through him. Perhaps it was a reaction against his physical powerlessness, perhaps some forlorn need not to go down without showing some degree of fight, but his need to lash out, somehow, anyhow, against the man who had so completely defeated him became overwhelming.

"That you, Lex?" he shouted, looking up at the silhouette, his head straining against the leather belts that restrained him.

The figure did not move.

"What's the matter, Lex? Don't want to get your hands dirty? That's you all over, Lex – you're a coward, you know that? A sick, twisted coward. Well let me tell you something – whatever your psycho doctor and your pet dominatrix do to me, I'm not going to break. Do you here that Lex? I'm not going to break!"

Oliver's words had come rapidly, breathlessly. There was courage in his voice, a willingness to fight in the face of seemingly hopeless odds that impressed even some of those who now held him captive. For a few brief seconds he felt empowered, once more the hero he wanted to be. He thought of Chloe, of the guys, and of how they would be proud of him if they could see him now, prepared to go down fighting. He felt as if he could take on the world, withstand any torment that Lex could throw at him – he _was _the Green Arrow, and if he was to die, he'd die a hero.

But there was no reply to his final show of defiance – only stillness. The figure behind the glass continued to stand motionless, as if to mock Oliver's last show of resistance. His words were just that – words. And the guys weren't there to witness his courage, and nor was Chloe. He was alone, and suddenly that fact hit him like it had never hit him before. No amount of defiance, no show of resistance, could alter the reality of the moment.

After a seemingly endless pause, the figure behind the glass could be seen to nod. It was an almost imperceptible movement, but its meaning was clear.

It was time.

The doctor turned back to Oliver, the first of the long needles poised in his right hand. He placed his left hand on Oliver's chest, before looking the young hero in the eye.

"Now Mr Queen, shall we begin?" he asked calmly, as if Oliver's outburst of less than a minute before had passed him by.

Every fibre of Oliver's body tensed, the sinews of his muscles stretching taut in anticipation of the pain that they were now to endure. He met the doctor's gaze, beads of sweat pouring down his face, his teeth clenched.

"Bring it on!" he whispered.

* * *

Lex stood impassively in the viewing area, staring down at the unfolding drama beneath him. When he'd designed this facility expressly for the imprisonment and torture of the Green Arrow he often thought of how he'd feel at this moment, as at last his tormentor finally received the punishment he so richly deserved. Never had he imagined, however, that that tormentor would turn out to be Oliver Queen, and that now he would witness the torture not of a stranger, but of a former friend.

Did that make him feel any different? Lex had reflected on that as he had watched Oliver being strapped down onto the gurney in readiness for the doctor's "treatment." He'd had time to adjust to the shock of Oliver's unmasking, to think about what this new reality might mean for what he'd originally planned for the Green Arrow. He'd known Oliver for so long, and they'd shared so much together – could he really subject a man he'd known since his schooldays to the mental and physical torment that he had long planned for his leather-clad nemesis?

The answer, of course, was yes. Lex felt no compassion for the man who now lay prostrate beneath him, awaiting his fate. He felt only contempt – and hate. For so many years he'd lived in Oliver's shadow, ever since their days together at Excelsior. Oliver had always been the one with the looks, the charm, the effortless way with women – the man who had everything. To think that for so long he'd try to emulate him, those pathetic attempts to ingratiate himself with Oliver that had resulted in rejection, humiliation, still painful after all these years. Well _now _who was humiliated? The playboy who thought he'd be a hero, the man who had dared to get in his way with his pathetic band of misfits, finally brought low by the House of Luthor. _This_ was justice, and Lex felt intoxicated by it. Oliver would pay for his crimes, he would feel the full force of the wrath of Lex Luthor – he would learn the true meaning of submission, of the price that had to be paid by anyone who was foolish enough to cross his path.

Lex listened without moving to Oliver's final outburst. He was brave, he had to admit that – but his words were meaningless, hollow. Lex knew the fear that lay behind those words, the sense of powerlessness, impotence, which Oliver must be feeling at this moment. Alone, without any hope of rescue, and with no knowledge even of where he was being held – how long could Oliver's bravado last? All the trappings of wealth and of privilege could not save the heir to the House of Queen now – he was on his own, and soon the terror he must be feeling inside would manifest itself, completing Lex's triumph. He smiled as he thought of the team he had assembled to break the Green Arrow. Carter's sadism had long made him an asset to the 33.1 program, and he knew of no one better suited to act as Oliver's jailer, a man who would delight in the petty humiliations that would slowly eat away at the young man's will to resist. Dr Thomas, a gifted scientist with a penchant for torture – he'd proved himself with many of 33.1's inmates, and Lex felt sure his talents would be put to particular good use on his old friend. And then there was Akunin. She was something special, a woman with a real gift. How many men had she taken apart for Lex? Too many to list. No matter how long it took, she always succeeded in breaking her victims, reducing them to quaking shadows of their former selves. And he'd seen the way she'd looked at Oliver – she _wanted _him. To think of what Akunin had in store for Oliver was almost too delicious for Lex to contemplate.

_So you think you won't break, do you Oliver? We'll see, we'll see…._

* * *

So things are bad for Ollie - and they will get worse! Next chapter will see the focus shift back to Chloe, and the fight back will begin.....

This is something of an anniversary for me - it's almost exactly one year since I started to write my first fanfic, "Target: Green Arrow." Thanks to all of you who've taken the time to read my stories, and as always a MASSIVE thank you to all you wonderful reviewers - your comments always give me a real buzz! Please keep reviewing - I love to hear what you all think.


	6. Chapter 6: A Disagreement

**Chapter Six: Disagreements and Opportunities**

Chloe stood before the array of bows and equipment that lined the wall, the green light of the chamber bathing her face in a warm glow. Five days had passed since news of Oliver's death had caused the bottom to fall out of her world, five days of tears, of resolution, of activity and of emptiness. It was the emptiness that perhaps affected her the most, the almost physical pain she felt when left alone with her grief. It was at night when it hit the hardest, the ache caused by his absence almost too hard to bear. But it could also hit her during the day, as it was hitting her now; when she was left alone with her thoughts, her memories and dreams of what might have been. It was not the first time she had come to the chamber when the pain of his loss hit her, and she guessed it would not be the last; to stand in that room, the heart of his secret life, the life that meant to so much to him, somehow brought her closer to his spirit.

She took hold of one of the drawers that lined the wall beneath the bows, gently pulling it open. Inside, folded neatly, was one of Oliver's tunics, the green leather seeming to shine in the glow of the light. Carefully she reached inside and took it in her hands, pulling it out and bringing it up to her face. She let her cheek nestle against the soft, smooth material as she breathed in deeply, the unmistakable aroma of the leather conjuring to her mind those occasions when she had thrilled to his touch just before he had embarked on some mission. She felt close to him at that moment, a strange, comforting sense of warmth flowing through her body as a solitary tear ran down the side of one of her cheeks. He may have gone, but she would still have her memories – no one, not even Lex, could rob her of those.

"Chloe, are you okay?"

The voice was gentle, reassuring. Chloe quickly replaced the uniform, taking care to leave it exactly as she had found it before closing the drawer. She brushed the tear from her cheek before she turned, forcing a smile to her lips to greet her old friend.

"Clark! When did you get back? I thought you were going to be in Smallville until Friday."

"Just an hour ago. Victor called me – said you might need to talk." Clark looked at Chloe, his face etched with concern. He knew he shouldn't have gone back to Smallville – but she'd been insistent, assuring him that she'd be okay and that the guys would look after her. But she clearly wasn't okay, and he wished now that he'd followed his instincts and stayed with her. She was fragile, hurt, and from what Victor had told him her grief was being channelled into a vendetta against Lex that threatened to consume her.

"I'm fine Clark – I don't know what Victor's told you, but I'm fine." She walked past him back into the penthouse, as if to have the conversation she knew she was about to have would in some way desecrate the shrine to Oliver's memory that the Green Arrow chamber had now come to represent.

"Where are the guys? I thought they'd be here."

"They're out, checking out some leads on 33.1 facilities that Oliver was working on."

"And Rio? Did they find anything out down there?"

"Nothing – it was a dead end. But I'm working on it." Chloe had taken her seat at a computer terminal, apparently checking her emails. She avoided looking at Clark – they knew each other too well, and she was well aware of where the conversation was leading.

For a few moments there was silence, save for the sound of Chloe's fingers moving rapidly across her keyboard. Clark carefully closed the doors to the Green Arrow chamber, taking the opportunity to think about how he was going to broach the subject that was on his mind. In Chloe's fragile state a couple of wrong words might destroy all he hoped to achieve, but he knew that he had to try, whatever the consequences.

"The cover story for Oliver's death - that his plane went down in a storm in the Caribbean – whose idea was that?"

"Mine – the guys agreed it was for the best. None of us wanted to give Lex the satisfaction of knowing that the man who had died in his warehouse down in Rio was Oliver."

Another pause. Chloe kept on typing, her body tensing as she sensed Clark building up to what was on his mind.

"And Jimmy?"

There it was – out there at last. Chloe had known as soon as Clark had mentioned Victor's name that he knew about Jimmy, and the fact that Chloe had revealed many of the secrets of the Justice League to the young photographer. She knew he wouldn't approve – and it was clear from Clark's demeanour that she was right.

"What about Jimmy?" She looked up at Clark, who now stood beside her at the computer. Her eyes briefly flashed with a mixture of irritation and anger; she knew Clark was about to question her judgement, and she was ready to defend herself.

Clark hesitated, conscious that Chloe was almost bristling with defiance. She was vulnerable, and he knew that if he got this wrong things might quickly degenerate into some sort of argument. But she was his friend, and he knew that for her sake he had to say things she might not want to hear, even if in the short term it might place a strain on their relationship.

"Was it wise to tell him about the guys? About the Justice League?" His voice was quiet, soothing – he was doing his best not to antagonise her.

"I trust him Clark – and the guys were good with it. And I didn't tell him everything – Oliver's identity as the Green Arrow remains a secret."

"But it's dangerous Chloe – the more people who know about the guys the greater the risk."

"Jimmy's a big boy, Clark – I think he can handle it. Besides, we need all the help we can get if we're going to close Lex down for good."

Again Clark paused. The stubbornness that was Chloe Sullivan's greatest strength was also at times her greatest weakness. This obsession with bringing down Lex was clouding her judgement – she needed to have a break, to allow the natural processes of grieving to work their course.

"Chloe, this fixation with Lex – it's not helping you. Why don't you take a break from it for a few days, allow yourself a bit of time to heal? You've been through a lot – you need some space, some time to get over your loss."

"What? Walk away from all this? I can't Clark – Oliver wouldn't have walked away, and neither am I."

"Would Oliver have told Jimmy about the guys?"

That last question hit a nerve, and as soon as Clark had said it he knew he'd made a mistake. A sudden flash of anger swept through Chloe – how dare he presume to know what Oliver would have done? No one knew Oliver like she did – not AC, not Victor, not Bart, not Lois, and certainly not Clark Kent.

"I think I know Oliver's mind better than you, Clark" she snapped. "And Oliver would have wanted me to carry on fighting, not sit around mopping like some pathetic grieving widow. He was a man of action, Clark, a man who had a destiny and wasn't afraid to confront it, whatever the risks. I'm going to honour his memory by finishing what he started – you may be content to sit on the sidelines and lecture others on how to live their lives, but that wasn't the Oliver Queen way, and it's not the Chloe Sullivan way either."

Even as she spoke Chloe felt a pang of regret at the harshness of her words. She knew that Clark only wanted what was best for her, and perhaps he was even right about Jimmy – maybe it had been a mistake to take him into her confidence. But these were difficult times, and whatever the wisdom of Clark's words she understood that deep down his prescription of rest and healing was not what she needed right now. Perhaps the time for that would come, but now she needed to be busy – she needed to be close to Oliver, and what better way to do that than for his faithful Watchtower to finish what he had started and close down 33.1 for good.

Chloe's words hit Clark hard. He'd known that in her current state she might lash out if he got it wrong, but understanding what his friend was feeling didn't entirely remove the hurt that he felt at her criticism. It was a criticism he'd heard before, of course – the idea that he was shying away from his destiny, sitting on the sidelines whilst others met the challenge of the evil in the world. Although she didn't know it, Chloe had just accused Clark of exactly the same crime of inaction that Oliver had accused him of two or three times before.

A silence hung heavily in the air, the two friends conscious of the pain they had caused each other. Both were filled with regret, but neither knew how to retrieve the situation and restore the equilibrium to their friendship which had temporarily been thrown off balance.

At last the sound of the elevator broke the awkwardness of the moment. Relieved at the arrival of a distraction, Chloe almost leapt from her chair to greet the visitor.

"This will be Jimmy," she said, attempting to inject a lightness into her voice to compensate for the anger that had distorted her last words to Clark. She pulled back the grille that protected the elevator shaft, to reveal a smiling Jimmy Olsen.

"Chloe, you were right about those flight records, I did a little digging, and..." His enthusiastic voice was cut short when he saw Clark standing in the middle of the penthouse. "Hey, CK, Chloe told me you weren't getting back from Smallville until Friday."

"Clark got back early and just came round to see how I was," said Chloe, not giving Clark an opportunity to respond himself. Jimmy detected a note of tension in her voice, and saw the pained look she shot across at Clark. Instantly he realised that he had burst in on a conversation where visitors were perhaps not welcome.

"Hey, well, if this is a bad time, maybe I could call back later," he said, trying to stage a diplomatic retreat.

There was a silence. It was clear that Chloe was not going to take Jimmy up on his offer, and Clark realised that the silence was a cue for him, and not Jimmy, to make his apologies and leave. He sighed inwardly. What he feared would happen had happened – far from easing Chloe away from her fixation with Lex, he'd made her more committed to pursuing her vendetta than ever. And the price he'd paid for his failure was a high one – there was now an atmosphere between them, one that would need time to heal. Perhaps it was time for him to leave – there was no more he could do, at least for now.

"No, don't go, Jimmy – I was just on my way out anyway." Clark made his way towards the elevator, pausing as he reached Chloe.

"Look after yourself," he said, taking Chloe by the hands. "And if you need me, you know where I am." Chloe responded to his words with a gentle smile, a sign that she understood that he meant well, even if she could not accept what he wanted her to do.

Jimmy watched as Clark stepped inside the elevator and pulled the grille down. Was he a part of this Justice League? He didn't know, but after what he'd learnt in the last few days anything was possible. When Chloe had said she wanted to share some secrets with him he never imagined for a minute the incredible story she would tell, so fantastic it sounded as if it came straight from the pages of a comic book. Oliver Queen, the organiser of a band of meteor freaks who were attempting to take down a top secret organisation named 33.1, run by Lex Luthor? You couldn't make up stuff like that, but it was the truth, and Chloe was a part of it, the Watchtower who helped coordinate the activities of the mysterious Justice League. Not that they were that mysterious, really – in fact, they just seemed like regular guys. AC, Victor, Bart – when he'd heard about their abilities he'd been a bit star-struck, but they'd soon put him at his ease, made him feel part of the team. In happier times he bet they'd be great company, but he was meeting them at a moment of crisis, their mentor dead in mysterious circumstances. It was clear to Jimmy that they had loved Oliver, and were determined to avenge his death, whatever the risks.

The circumstances might be dark, but secretly Jimmy felt exhilarated. He had been swept into a world he never knew existed, an exciting world of heroes and villains. He was living a childhood fantasy, and, best of all, he was living it with Chloe. In the last few days he'd spent so much time with her, it was like a dream come true. He'd taken on the role of trusty sidekick, following up leads and helping her in her quest to bring down Lex Luthor. Yes, it was a quest inspired by her love for Oliver Queen, but that didn't matter – he was near her, able to talk to her, comfort her, reassure her, support her. And for now that was enough, for it gave him cause for hope, hope that perhaps one day their friendship might turn into something more..... After all, Oliver was dead, and however many times she looked at that photo of him that she kept in her handbag, he wasn't coming back. And when she mourned, when the tears welled up in her eyes, who would be there to comfort her? He would. He'd discovered something about himself in the last few days – he was a great actor. He'd never known how well he was able to feign sympathy until now – he didn't care that Oliver was dead, in fact he was pleased that his handsome rival was out of the picture, but when it came to showing fellow feeling for Chloe, well, he deserved an Oscar! All he had to do was to wait, wait for her memories to fade, and for her to see more clearly where her future happiness truly lay....

"So, what were you saying about those flight records?" asked Chloe, the sound of the elevator descending behind her.

"The flight records? Yeah, well you were right to be suspicious. It wasn't easy to find – Lex is clearly trying to cover his tracks – but a LuthorCorp jet definitely flew down to Rio at the same time as Oliver and AC, and returned a day or so later."

"I knew it! I knew Lex was involved in this somehow." Chloe's voice was animated, excited, and Jimmy enjoyed the sense that he was the focus of her attention, the man with the information she desperately craved. "Who was on the flights?"

"I don't know – that information just can't be accessed." Jimmy's words caused Chloe's features to fall visibly. "But I did find out something else – something which might be significant."

"Yeah?"

"Another LuthorCorp employee returned to Metropolis on a flight from Rio just a few hours after Lex's private jet flew in. Could be coincidence, but..."

"With Lex there's no such thing as coincidence," said Chloe, cutting off Jimmy in mid sentence. "What's this man's name?"

"Dr Henry Thomas – he's been employed by LuthorCorp for the last eight months, ever since he was dismissed from his university post for conducting unethical experiments."

"Unethical experiments, eh? Sounds like Lex's idea of a perfect employee. So what was Dr Thomas doing down in Rio, I wonder? I'll just look him up on the Planet's database, see what we've got on him," said Chloe, starting to walk towards her computer terminal.

"No need," said Jimmy, smiling as he pulled out a file from his bag. "I've already done it. He lives over in Acton. I've got an address for him – I guessed you'd want to pay him a visit."

"Oh Jimmy, I love you!" Chloe's excitement was palpable, and before she could check herself she planted a kiss on the young photographer's cheek. The young man blushed as she then took the file from his hands, eagerly opening it up before perusing the papers inside.

"Well it looks like Dr Thomas has got some explaining to do," said Chloe, quickly flipping through the pages of the mini dossier that Jimmy had put together. Jimmy once more felt the thrill of being at the heart of something important, something exciting, and sharing the moment with the woman he loved.

At last she finished, quickly stuffing the papers back into the file before reaching across for her coat that hung from a hook near the elevator shaft.

"Let's pay the good doctor a visit, shall we Jimmy?" she said, looking across at the eager face of her companion. She felt invigorated, all thoughts of her awkward conversation with Clark banished, at least for the time being. This man Thomas knew what Lex was up to down in Rio, she could feel it. And she would get to the truth, unlock the secrets of the 33.1 operation that had claimed Oliver's life.

She had a lead – Watchtower was on the move at last.

* * *

I promised you a Chloe chapter, and here it is - you'll just have to imagine what Lex and his minions are doing to poor old Ollie! A quieter chapter than the last two, which were heavy on the angst, but an important one, setting the scene for some important plot developments to come..

Thanks for reading, and as always a special thanks to all you reviewers, who inspire me when the going gets tough. Please keep reviewing - I'll be eternally grateful!


	7. Chapter 7: A Small Betrayal

**Chapter Seven: A Small Betrayal**

There was silence in the car as they approached Acton. They'd been on the road for about twenty minutes, and for the first ten of those the conversation had flowed readily, Chloe eager to speculate about what Lex's operation down in Rio might have involved, and how Dr Thomas might fit into the picture. But eventually the conversation faltered, both Chloe and Jimmy losing themselves in their own thoughts.

For Jimmy that meant thinking back to that kiss. He knew that she had meant nothing by it, that it had been the spontaneous reaction of a woman relieved that at last she appeared to have the break that she had longed for for so many days. But that didn't matter to Jimmy; for him all that mattered was that she had kissed him, and he had felt a rush of excitement, a soaring of his emotions, such as he had never experienced before. How far he had come! Just a week ago his life seemed all mapped out, his path as a photographer set and the woman he loved so obviously destined to spend the rest of her life with a man who seemed too perfect to be true. But now Oliver Queen was dead, he had been propelled into a world of intrigue and danger he never knew existed, and Chloe seemed to need him in a way he never thought possible. Part of him thought it was all a dream, that at any minute he'd wake up to find his editor bawling him out for missing a deadline. But this wasn't a dream – this was reality. And he didn't want it ever to end.

As Jimmy drove on Chloe sat lost in her own private world. It felt good to be doing something. Clark was right about one thing at least - sitting around in Oliver's penthouse was not doing her any good at all, leaving her too much time to brood on what might have been. But he'd been wrong about Jimmy – the work he'd done on Thomas was proof of that. The two of them made a good team, and she felt certain that Oliver would have approved; he was never one for inaction, and she felt excited that at last she could repay some of the faith he'd always placed in his Watchtower by getting down to some sleuthing of her own. Something inside her was telling her that the Rio operation mattered a great deal, and that getting to the bottom of what had gone on down there would be the key to bringing down 33.1. Only then would she be able to lay Oliver to rest, to feel that she had truly avenged his loss.

Suddenly she panicked. His face – she could not recall his face! A wave of something akin to terror swept through her – how could she have forgotten his face so quickly! Her stomach turned over; she felt as if she was betraying him, desecrating their love for each other when he had not been dead even a single week. Seized by a cold sweat, she grabbed her handbag, pulling it open and searching around frantically inside. It seemed like an eternity, but in fact it was only a couple of seconds, before her hand found what it had been searching for – the photo. Carefully she pulled it out of the bag, staring down at the image in front of her. Her memory may have momentarily failed – a product surely of her emotional exhaustion – but the photo did not; there he was, that beautiful smile effortlessly beaming back at her. A perfect moment, captured forever – it seemed such a world away, but in fact it had been taken only a week or so before. She had so few pictures of the two of them together, and that made this one so precious, almost sacred in its importance. She clasped it between her fingers, thankful for the reassurance it gave her that the love she had experienced so briefly would never fully be taken away from her. And – was it her imagination? – but she felt as if his smiling image was speaking to her, telling her it was alright, that he would be with her, forever....

_I love you, Oliver, and I'll never forget you, I promise. _

Jimmy glanced across at Chloe, observing the picture in her hands. He knew better than to say anything – there were times when he knew his role as supporter and confidante demanded that he stay silent, leaving her alone with her memories. But he could not help but see the expression on her face, the rapt attention with which she studied Oliver's face, as if she were trying to commit every last detail to memory. She loved him, he could see that – loved him with an intensity and a depth that seemed even to surpass his own love for her. He felt a pang of jealousy as he wondered whether she would ever come to look at a picture of _him_ with the same sense of longing as he now saw in her eyes as she looked at the picture of Oliver. Perhaps one day....

"We're here," he said, pulling the car into the side of the road. Chloe was stirred from her thoughts, and quickly slipped the photo back inside her handbag. As she turned to her left she found herself looking at a smart detached house, set back from the road. The building was not huge, but this was an expensive area, and Chloe realised that even a house like this would not come cheap. The building was surrounded by carefully manicured lawns and a selection of well established trees and bushes. It was the picture of middle class respectability.

"Looks like our doctor friend does well for himself," said Chloe. "I wonder what Dr Thomas does for Lex to earn himself a salary that allows him to live in a smart neighbourhood like this?"

"So what now?"

"We go see if anyone's home."

Chloe grabbed her bag and started to get out of the car, Jimmy quickly following suit. The two of them started to walk up the path towards the door, Jimmy noting the impressive sports car that stood parked up to their left. They were just about to arrive at the front door when to their surprise it opened, to reveal a middle aged man dressed in a smart suit and tie. The look of surprise on his face was matched by the looks on the faces of his visitors, but Chloe quickly recovered, switching instinctively into reporter mode.

"Hi there, we're looking for a Dr Thomas? We were told he lived here."

"Yes, I'm Dr Thomas," said the man, a questioning smile forming on his lips.

"My name is Chloe Sullivan, and this is my friend Jimmy Olsen. We're from the Daily Planet and we'd like to ask you a few questions, if you've got the time." Chloe's voice was business-like and bright, but she was studying Thomas's features carefully, watching for even the slightest change in his demeanour that might betray some clue, some sign that she'd hit a nerve. By the time she'd finished speaking Thomas's expression had changed from welcoming to hostility, but what Chloe found particularly intriguing was the moment when the transformation had taken place; not when she'd introduced herself as a journalist, but when she'd said her name....

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'm rather busy, and I don't see what the press would want with me." He slammed the door shut behind him, brushing past Chloe and Jimmy as he walked briskly towards his car.

"Well, you could start by telling me what you do for Lex Luthor. That's who you work for, isn't it? Lex Luthor?" Chloe pursued the doctor across the driveway, eager to press home the early advantage she instinctively felt she had won.

"My work for Mr Luthor is confidential," replied the doctor curtly, his irritation showing in the frown that had formed on his forehead.

"Would it have anything to do with 33.1?" asked Chloe, managing to slip between the doctor and the door to his car. The doctor was forced to halt, and as Chloe mentioned 33.1 she saw a flash of recognition in his eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Miss..."

"Sullivan. Chloe Sullivan. And I think you do know what I'm talking about, don't you Dr Thomas? Tell me, was it your work on 33.1 that took you down to Rio a few days ago?"

The mention of Rio flustered the doctor, whose desire to escape from this encounter was almost palpable. "I tell you I don't know what you mean, now get the hell out of my way, will you?" At that he grabbed Chloe and pushed her to one side with some force; Chloe lost her footing, and fell awkwardly to the ground, the contents of her handbag scattering across the driveway and under the nearby bushes.

"Hey, get your hands off her!" shouted Jimmy, running the few paces needed to bring him to where Chloe had fallen. The doctor ignored him, jumping into his car before driving off at high speed.

"Chloe, are you okay?" asked Jimmy, kneeling down beside Chloe. She'd fallen awkwardly, and was wincing in pain.

"Well, I think we can safely say I hit a nerve," she said, attempting to smile despite her obvious discomfort.

"You sure did that! It wasn't the most subtle line of questioning ever, I have to admit."

"I wasn't after subtle, Jimmy. I wanted to rattle him, to shake the tree a bit."

"And did it work?"

"Oh yeah. Dr Thomas knows all about 33.1, and what's more he knows all about Rio too – I'm sure of it. And you know what he's doing now, Jimmy? He's phoning his boss to tell him about the reporter who just rattled his cage."

Jimmy looked doubtfully at Chloe. "And it's good that Lex knows we're on to him?"

"Lex is a cool customer, Jimmy. If we're to bring him down, we've got to provoke him, force him out into the open."

Jimmy still wasn't convinced, but kept any further doubts to himself as he helped Chloe to her feet. For a moment or two she was a little unsteady, but she soon found her balance, and then stooped down to begin the task of retrieving the contents of her handbag. Jimmy helped her, and within a few seconds all appeared to be back where it belonged.

"What now?" he asked, once more slipping into the role of devoted sidekick.

"Back to the penthouse – I want to let the guys know about the doctor. If they've had any luck shaking down some of Lex's 33.1 operations, then Lex is really going to start feeling the heat." Chloe then set off towards the car, clearly excited having pierced the seemingly invulnerable shell of LuthorCorp operations, albeit only slightly.

Jimmy was about to follow her, but before he did so he decided to just take one last look round on the ground; ever the faithful follower, he wanted to make sure Chloe hadn't missed anything when she'd rather hastily scooped up the scattered contents of her handbag. It was then he saw it, lying almost hidden under one of the bushes – the photograph. It was easy to miss, being partially hidden by the dense foliage, but Jimmy instantly recognised the image of the two smiling faces looking back at him. Jimmy half opened his mouth to shout to Chloe to return, but then he stopped himself. No one knew he'd seen it – why say anything? The photo only brought Chloe pain, after all, reminding her of what might have been. She needed to heal, to move on – wouldn't that happen more quickly if she didn't have that image to grieve over? Fate has swept that photo there – who was he to intervene?

"Jimmy, are you coming?" Jimmy looked down the driveway to where Chloe was now waiting by the car, clearly eager to be on the move.

He smiled, raising a hand in acknowledgement.

"Coming, boss!" And with that he jogged down towards the car, leaving the photograph undisturbed beneath the bush.

* * *

So Chloe's sleuthing, and Jimmy's beginning his journey to the dark side....or is he? If you're missing Ollie, don't worry, he'll figure prominently in the next few chapters - although if you don't like angst, you might want to look away, because there's some serious suffering in store for him, I'm afraid.....

Thanks for reading, and a big thanks to all you reviewers. Please do let me know what you think - every review makes my day, and encourages me to write more!


	8. Chapter 8: Respite

**Chapter Eight: Respite **

Oliver lay curled up on his side in one corner of the cage, his tortured muscles finding some relief in the almost foetal position that they demanded the young man adopt. There was silence in the chamber, save for the constant humming of some far- off generator, presumably connected to the ventilation system which kept the subterranean prison filled with air. And of course there was the sound of Oliver's breathing – deep and labored, it gave some indication of the exhaustion that had taken hold of the entirety of his body.

How long had he been there? Oliver didn't know for sure, but he guessed it must be four or five days. He'd lost all track of time, a consequence of one of the many little torments that Lex had prepared for him in this living hell. There were no windows in chamber where he was being kept, and no clocks to give him a sense of the reality of time passing. He could only rely on his instincts to keep track of the passage of the days, and these were being subjected to a series of cruel deceptions. The lights in the chamber were constantly being turned on and off, apparently entirely at random; sometimes he was plunged into darkness for hours, sometimes only minutes, whilst at other times the glare of the harsh electric light seemed as if it would never be extinguished. It was all very far from being random, of course, as Oliver well knew; his captors were attempting to disorientate him, throw the natural cycles of his body into confusion, so that his ability to stand up to the sessions in the torture room was weakened. It was a classic technique, used by interrogators down the ages – but that didn't make it any less effective.

Oliver shifted his body slightly, trying to find some position of comfort that would allow him to draw what strength he could from these few moments of respite. It could have been worse, of course – they might have chained him up in the center of the cage as they had done when he had first arrived. But instead he was allowed to move unshackled around his new home, free even of a set of handcuffs. It was a small mercy, and one perhaps designed to contribute to his sense of despair; such was Lex's confidence in the impregnability of his dungeon that he felt no need to restrain his prisoner during his periods of rest. And there was another sinister truth to his apparent "freedom"; Lex clearly didn't want him to break too quickly, but instead was relishing the prospect of taking him apart slowly, piece by piece.

Was Lex succeeding? The sessions in the torture room were indeed all that he had feared, and worse – an experience almost beyond description. There had been four sessions so far. The shortest couldn't have been less than an hour, and the longest, well, the longest went on for so long Oliver began to feel that he truly was experiencing the torments of hell on earth. _The needles_.....Oliver's stomach churned as an image flashed into his mind, an image of the doctor poised to insert one of those hellish instruments into the exposed flesh of his chest. It was an image so vivid, so terrifying, that he felt as if it had been almost physically burned into his sub consciousness. And then the pain...._pain like nothing on this earth!_ Searing pain, stabbing pain, pain that sent waves of excruciating agony pulsating through every fibre of his being. And it was an agony that never seemed to ease, never seemed to offer even a moment's pause; his body simply had to endure the abuse to which it was being subjected. And all the time the doctor worked over him, methodically identifying each incision point before clinically inserting the next needle, apparently oblivious to the effects of his terrible torture on his helpless prey.

To think of those sessions knotted Oliver's gut with fear, sweat seeping from every pore of his body. In the first session he'd tried to be brave, to grit his teeth and deny his tormentors the satisfaction of hearing his cries of agony. But it had been impossible – on the fifth or sixth needle he was unable to help himself, and he had let out a scream of such anguish that it seemed as if it had come from the very extremities of human existence. He'd expected no sympathy from his torturers, no flicker of humanity, and he had been right; apparently unmoved, the doctor simply carried on as before, the merest hint of a smile the only outward sign of the perverted pleasure he got from his work. The only sound to greet his cry of agony was the thick laughter of Carter, the satisfaction of the sadist reverberating around the room. Perhaps most chillingly of all, however, had been the sight of the figure of Lex, still standing motionless behind the smoked glass; as Oliver looked up, he knew that his scream had provoked not empathy from his old school friend, but instead a cold, heartless sense of triumph.

Since that first session he had given up all attempts to stifle the cries of agony that his body desperately needed release. If it gave his captors some sick sense of victory, then so be it; Oliver was more interested in fighting on a different front, a front on which he had decided to stake everything. He would scream, he would cry out, he would endure the humiliation of their taunts, but there was one thing he would never do – _he would not beg_. He had made that decision the first time they had strapped him to the table, and his determination to stay true to that promise he had made to himself had only hardened every time one of those needles had pierced his body. For his own sense of self-worth, for the guys, and above all for the woman he loved, he would ask nothing of Lex, whatever new torments he might devise. That was the line that he had drawn in the sand, and it was a line he believed he could hold. Indeed, he _had _to hold it – or else he knew he was lost.

But it was hard, _so_ hard – and it was becoming harder with every session he was forced to endure. The doctor was a professional, skilled in the art of breaking a man, and above all he was patient – he could afford to wait as Oliver was slowly sapped of his physical and emotional strength. At the end of each session Carter would drag him back to the cage, heaping insults on him before dumping his tortured body inside the cell. Then he would be left alone, as he was now – left alone to recover in readiness for the next "treatment." But each time it seemed as if it was becoming harder for his body to recover, his abused frame gradually weakening with every assault. He didn't know how much more physical punishment he could endure, but in the apparently never-ending nightmare his resolve to stay true to the promise he had made to himself gave him some sense of focus, the goal he needed to keep going, _to survive_.

There was one other thing that sustained him in his seemingly hopeless nightmare: the photo. When Carter had returned him to the cage at the end of the first session his need to look upon that picture of Chloe had almost overwhelmed him, but he had checked himself; he knew that he was most likely being monitored, and it took him some time to identify the various cameras that were directed towards his prison. But at last the task was done, and he had been able to work out the position in the cage where he would be able to pull out the photo and look at in safety. He was in that position now, and once more he found himself suddenly gripped by an all-consuming need to see her face. Slowly he reached into the inside pocket of his tunic, gradually pulling the photo out into the open. On his return from the torture chamber he would always put on his tunic; not only did it allow him to keep close the precious image, but it also reminded him of who he was, and provided some protection, however flimsy, from the greedy eyes of Akunin. The way she looked at him, coveted him like some piece of meat, unnerved him, and he felt certain that even as he lay there alone she was watching him via those cameras, dreaming of how she might fulfil her promise to get inside his head and break him from within. Such sickness was true evil, and how it contrasted with the beauty and simplicity of the image that he now held close in front of him. _This was just over a week ago!_ It seemed incredible, but it was true. How wonderful she looked! So natural, so beautiful, so perfect – she had given him a taste of happiness in its purest form, and whatever might lie ahead, whatever tortures he might be forced to endure, this image of Chloe Sullivan would always remind him of a memory that not even Lex could destroy.

_Chloe, I love you, and I will always love you, to the end of my days._

A sound. Oliver tensed as he heard the all too recognisable noise of the door to the chamber being opened some way off behind him. Despite his aching exhaustion, his senses were suddenly on edge, hungry for any clue as to what might be about to happen. He quickly replaced the photograph inside his tunic, and then lay still, listening.....

Heavy footsteps were making their way towards the cage. Oliver knew instantly that they belonged to Carter, and inwardly he could not prevent a sense of despair from taking hold of his mind. Surely it could not be time for another session in the torture chamber? It didn't seem five minutes since his jailer had returned him here from his previous session. He'd not had time to recover, to gather his strength – was that what Lex intended? Did he intend to kill him quickly after all? Perhaps already Lex was tiring of his sadistic games, and wanted the ultimate satisfaction of seeing him dead. He didn't know, he didn't know anything, and that was what made it all so desperate, so unbearable....

Conscious that he was starting to panic, Oliver made a determined effort to reassert control over his emotions. He remembered Chloe, and the promise he had made to himself. _I must stay calm, _he said to himself, _or I'm finished – and Lex will have won._

Behind him Oliver heard the door to the cage swing open, and Carter stepping inside.

"On your feet, pretty boy." Carter's voice, contemptuous and vicious, reverberated around the chamber.

Slowly Oliver complied, dragging his aching body up off the floor and turning to face Carter as he did so. Despite the pain he felt, he still managed to draw himself up to his full height, meeting Carter's gaze with a steady stare; in his battle with his jailer, one of the many battles of wills in which he was engaged, he was determined to show no fear.

"Now turn around."

Oliver did as he was told. A second or so later he felt his arms being pulled behind his back, and the touch of metal on his wrists; he was being handcuffed. This was different – what was happening? Oliver barely had time to ask himself the question before he felt Carter's big hands grab him by the shoulders and wheel him round, before shoving him downwards and onto the floor. Oliver landed heavily on his knees, wincing as he did so; he raised his head to object, only to be met with a blow from some hard object to the back of his skull.

"You keep your head down, do you hear? Or so help me I'll smash that pretty face of yours up, whatever Akunin wants."

Resistance was pointless, so Oliver stayed still, staring at the ground in front of him. For a few moments nothing seemed to be happening, and all Oliver could focus on was the pain that was emanating from his knees as he knelt on the hard floor. Then he heard footsteps, lighter than Carter's, but crisper, more measured. He'd not heard those steps for a few days, but he knew them only too well.

Lex was about to pay his captive a visit.

* * *

I know some of you have been missing Ollie, so I hope this chapter has made you happy. It is very much the calm before the storm - some very bad things are going to happen to Ollie over the next few chapters, before Chloe's story starts to overlap with his.

Thanks as always to all those who take the time to review - I appreciate it immensely. Please do keep letting me know what you think. Sorry to end on a down note, but the next chapter might be delayed - work is crowding in at the moment. I'll try to post next weekend, but it could be after that - I want to get things right rather than rushing something out.


	9. Chapter 9: Revelations

**Chapter Nine: Revelations**

As the footsteps came closer Oliver tried to prepare himself for the confrontation to come. In a way he was surprised it had not happened sooner, as he'd expected Lex to want to enjoy his triumph over his adversary face-to-face.

Eventually the footsteps stopped, and Oliver was conscious of Lex's presence in front of him, just a few feet away. There was silence once more, Lex obviously savouring the moment.

"The mighty Green Arrow, caged and on his knees – how does it feel, I wonder, to be Oliver Queen at this moment?" Lex's voice was relaxed, almost playful; the studied control that was the product of years of self discipline, and which had momentarily left him during his first encounter with the unmasked Green Arrow, was in the ascendant. Lex had come to gloat, and nothing was going to rob him of this moment of pure pleasure.

Oliver looked up at Lex's words, catching sight of Lex's strange half-smile before Carter's hand grabbed the back of his head and pushed it downwards.

"You don't listen, boy! You only look at your betters when you're given permission, understand?" Carter's voice had the tone of a school bully picking on someone younger and weaker; he was clearly delighting in the power he was able to exercise over his captive.

"You must forgive Mr Queen, Carter – even at school he was never good at obeying instructions," said Lex, his voice almost soothing in its effect. "Isn't that right, Oliver? However many rules you broke, however many tests you cheated in, however many lives you and your friends ruined, the magic of the Queen fortune always came to your rescue." Lex reached down and took Oliver by the chin, tilting his face upwards so that he could look into the young man's eyes. "Well all those billions can't save you now, can they Oliver?"

Lex let go of Oliver's chin, and for a few moments the two men stared at each other. Oliver's eyes blazed with anger, but now his defiance only seemed to strengthen Lex, the half smile on his lips broadening as he sensed the impotent rage of his captive.

"Actually, I came down here to apologise," said Lex, eventually breaking the silence and taking a couple of steps off to his right, surveying the interior of the cage. "33.1 has never played host to a celebrity before, and I feel guilty that I've been neglecting to you."

Oliver said nothing, but simply stared straight ahead.

"So how are you, Oliver? The accommodation may not be quite up to the Queen standard, but I hope you're settling in to your new home." As Lex said the words his eyes fell on the two plastic bowls that were placed to one side of the cage and from which Oliver was forced to eat and drink. In the far corner he also saw the plastic bucket, Carter's idea of sanitation. The conditions were basic, exactly as he had ordered; he wanted Oliver treated like an animal, and this cell was worse than any cage you would find in a zoo.

There was silence.

"Mr Luthor asked you a question, boy," snarled Carter, grabbing Oliver by the hair and wrenching his head back.

"Carter, there's no need for that," said Lex, his voice relaxed and assured. "It must be hard for Mr Queen, to have had so much and then to be left with nothing. I hope, Oliver, that he's treating you with the respect and dignity that befits someone of your stature."

Carter grunted as he released his hold on Oliver's hair, apparently not quite appreciating Lex's humour.

Lex took the few steps necessary to stand once more before his prisoner. He then squatted in front of Oliver, like an adult about to take a child into their confidence.

"You know Dr Thomas is very impressed with you," he began. "He's worked on many of my guests, of course, but no one has come close to you for being able to withstand his treatment. I'm not surprised, of course – I always expected the famous Green Arrow to be a challenge, and you're living up to all my expectations."

"Always glad to be of service," replied Oliver, his voice quiet but laced with defiance as he met Lex's stare with grim determination.

"He speaks! You know I was beginning to worry that perhaps the silver tongue of Oliver Queen had deserted you. All that screaming during the treatments – it must take its toll. And how you scream, Oliver – I'm glad this chamber is deep underground, or I'd be getting complaints from the neighbours."

"Don't you worry about me, Lex – just giving my lungs a bit of workout, that's all."

"Ah, Oliver, that's more like it! The bravado I've come to expect – it makes this whole situation so much more amusing for all concerned, don't you think?"

"I don't know, Lex – but then I'm not a sick, twisted psychopath like you, so it's hard for me to comment."

Lex smiled. "Talking of psychopaths, what do you make of my associate Miss Akunin?"

"I would say the two of you are a match made in heaven."

"She is something, isn't she? A woman of unique abilities. You know I've lost count of the number of men she's broken for me. A consummate professional, utterly dedicated to her craft. But I have to tell you, Oliver, you've had an effect on Rachel. Her interest in you...well, let's say it extends beyond the normal pride she takes in her work." Lex paused for a moment, making a point of looking to his left and right before leaning in close. "She wants you, Oliver," he whispered, enjoying the effect of seeming to take his captive into his confidence. "I mean, _really_ wants you. She won't admit it, of course – she's too professional for that. But I've seen the way she looks at you, Oliver – she covets you like a poor man covets gold. The muscles, the snug fitting leather, that oh so pretty face of yours – I've never seen her look at a man like she looks at you. Once again the Queen charm melts the heart of a beautiful young woman – quite the fairy tale, don't you think? And if I know Rachel, that means she's preparing something extra special for you, something truly unique. What will it be, I wonder? I suppose we'll just have to wait to find out what special surprise she's dreamt up for the invincible Green Arrow."

At last Lex pulled back, before standing once more over his prisoner. His heart was beating slightly faster in his chest, the enjoyment he was feeling at playing with his captive causing the adrenalin to pump through his body. The sense of power he felt was intoxicating – and to think that this could go on for weeks, months, even years! Queen was utterly without hope of rescue, a toy to be played with at will. And the plans he had for Oliver, plans which he had turned over and over in his mind these last few nights, were so terrible, so sadistic in their objective of breaking his old friend in mind, body and spirit, that he had surprised even himself with the depth of his desire to destroy the man who now knelt before him.

"Well, enjoyable as it is to stand here and chat, I must get on," said Lex, his voice once more businesslike. "I leave you in the capable hands of Mr Carter here – I know he'll cater to your every need."

Lex turned and took a step towards the door to the cage. He then paused, before wheeling round to once more face his prisoner.

"Oh, I almost forgot! I thought you might want to see this."

As Oliver looked up he saw Lex reach into his inside jacket pocket and pull out a folded up piece of paper. As Lex opened it up it soon became recognisable as the front page of _The Daily Planet_, Oliver catching a glimpse of the newspaper's name in its distinctive lettering before Lex turned it towards himself, holding it at arm's length.

"A front page headline, Oliver – and quite a splash at that. The media's love affair with the Queen name lives on forever, it seems – unlike you, of course."

Lex then turned the paper towards Oliver, holding it out so that he could read the headline.

_PLAYBOY MISSING IN PLANE CRASH_

_Billionaire Oliver Queen feared dead as private jet disappears over the Caribbean_

_Tragedy repeats itself as events mirror death of parents _

"And so the world mourns the death of Oliver Queen," said Lex, turning the paper back towards himself. "Quite a cover story your little friends have put out, isn't it? The orphaned billionaire dies as his parents died, in a mysterious air accident at sea – the symmetry is almost poetic. I wonder who thought that one up? Curry, perhaps? No – this is too intelligent for our blond beach boy. Bart Allen? Again, it doesn't quite fit, does it? No, this is the work of someone intelligent, someone with an eye for the dramatic and the ready headline – this has to be the work of Chloe Sullivan, doesn't it?"

Oliver's gut churned as he listened to Lex's taunts. The headline had been devastating enough. Logic told him that something like this must have happened, that his disappearance would have to be explained somehow, but to see it in black and white made it all too painfully real. But to hear the names of his friends on Lex's lips – to hear Chloe's name – it was all too terrible. Oliver felt as if Lex knew everything, and that he was powerless not simply to save himself, but to protect his friends and the woman he loved.

"Still, they could hardly tell the world the truth, now could they? That Oliver Queen went missing whilst indulging his sideline in terrorism down in Rio with his freakish friends from the so-called Justice League." Lex paused, observing Oliver's face as he tried to come to terms with this latest revelation. He could see fear behind his old friend's eyes – it was time to press home his advantage. "I wonder how they're taking it, your freakish little band of terrorists. Must be difficult to lose a leader as charismatic as yourself. Quite a trauma – perhaps that's why they've been indulging in something of a frenzy these last few days, hitting my installations across the country."

Oliver's ears pricked up at this latest piece of intelligence. The guys were fighting back! His heart swelled to think of his team avenging his loss, working to complete the mission that they had started together even at this most darkest of hours.

"You don't get it, do you Lex?," he said, a confidence returning to his voice. "I'm just one part of a team, a team that's committed to bringing you down. Killing me isn't going to change that – it's only going to make them stronger, even more determined to destroy everything you stand for."

"Ahh, Oliver, you underestimate your own importance! How long do you think your little friends can keep up your pointless crusade without you? Besides, I'm having them watched – I can reel your freaks in any time I like."

There was a pause, Lex's almost casual aside hitting Oliver like a hammer blow.

"You're lying."

"You think so? You need to understand, Oliver, I'm in control now – not just here, but out there as well. Aquaman, Impulse, Cyborg – they don't so much as take a walk without my knowledge. Even the delightful Miss Sullivan – she may think she's being the intrepid reporter, hunting down the truth about your tragic demise, but in reality I know everything she knows. They're all my puppets, Oliver – all players in my little game."

Lex saw the fear flash across Oliver's eyes as he mentioned Chloe's name – again he pressed home his advantage.

"Having said that, I think Chloe has upset Dr Thomas. She paid him a visit, and all her questions made him feel quite uncomfortable. She is persistent, I'll give her that – but I'm afraid that persistence might land her in a lot a trouble if she's not careful."

Oliver's blood ran cold at Lex's latest threat. Protecting Chloe was all that mattered to him – more even than his own life. To hear Lex threaten her so explicitly was almost too much to bear.

"If you hurt her, I'll.."

"Kill me? I don't think so, Oliver. And nor do I have any intention of killing Chloe Sullivan. But does she have a part to play in my plans for you? Well, that's an entirely different matter. I guess you'll just have to wait and see, won't you?" Lex smiled down at Oliver, confident that in this encounter with his enemy there had been only one winner.

And with that he turned and walked towards the door of the cage, accompanied by Carter. As the door to the cage was locked behind him he glanced back at his captive, still on his knees in the center of the cell.

_That's right, Oliver - be afraid. What I have in store for you is beyond your wildest nightmares – and this is only the beginning._

* * *

I love Lex-Ollie confrontations - hope you enjoyed this chapter. It is all about to get pretty intense for Oliver, with a lot of angst in the next few chapters - and beyond that I've got a lot of shocks in store! I wish I could write more quickly, but work is so busy at the moment - I'll try to post the next chapter next week, but no guarantees. Thanks so much for reading - and reviewing. Please do keep reviewing - even a few words really inspire and motivate me, and I am so grateful to you.


	10. Chapter 10: A Brutal Lesson

**Chapter Ten: A Brutal Lesson**

_I will protect you._

Oliver lay on his side in one corner of the cage, staring intently at the photograph of Chloe that he clutched carefully in his hands. The edges of the picture were starting to show signs of wear, and there was a crease in one corner, all testaments to the frequency with which he had gazed on that image over the last few days. Somehow his need to look at her face seemed all the more urgent now, as Lex's chilling words echoed around his head. He'd lain there for what might have been hours, turning those barely veiled threats over and over again in his head. Had Lex been lying when he said he knew about every move the guys were making? Could he really take them out at will? And what about Chloe – what did Lex have in store for her? The more he thought about what might happen the more he was enveloped by a sense of encircling gloom, all pervasive and inescapable. If only Chloe wasn't so good at her job, then she'd be safe – but Oliver knew that the reporter in her would never let go, and that the more she dug deeper, the closer she would come to danger. The thought was unbearable – that Lex could take her, harm her, use her against him. Something within Oliver told him that something terrible lay ahead – he didn't know what, and he didn't know when it would happen. But as he looked down at that precious image, he was confident of one thing – whatever happened, he would sacrifice everything to protect the woman he loved more than anything else in the world.

The sound of the door to the chamber opening up in the distance at last brought his troubled stream of thoughts to an end. Swiftly he slipped the photograph inside his tunic, in an action he had performed so often it now came almost without the need for conscious thought. He reached down to pull up the zip on his jacket, when the unexpected disturbed his well-established routine. The zip was stuck! Panicking, he pulled at it hard, whilst keeping his back to the footsteps that were approaching rapidly. But the zip stubbornly refused to move upwards, remaining lodged firmly at the foot of his tunic. Oliver tried one last time to make it move, before giving up as he heard the footsteps behind him come to a halt at the door to the cage.

Oliver lay still as he heard the door to the cage swing open. He heard two sets of footsteps entering, their heaviness telling him that it was Carter and his associate. It could mean only one of two things – either he was to be fed, or he was to be returned to the tender mercies of Dr Thomas.

"Your banquet awaits, pretty boy." Carter's sneering voice answered the question.

Oliver did not move, his instincts telling him to stay still. Almost immediately he knew he'd made a mistake – ignoring Carter was a sure fire way of provoking him to anger.

"Turn around when I speak to you, you piece of shit!" Oliver's silence was then greeted with a kick to the base of his spine, causing him to convulse in agony. He twisted round on the floor, to come face to face with the scowling face of his attacker.

"When I tell you to do something, you do it, you hear? I'm not playing butler to some rich kid like you, Queen."

"Hey, you should think about it," gasped Oliver. "If the hired sadist angle doesn't work out, you'd look great in black serving a gin and tonic."

"Funny guy!" growled Carter, stamping down hard on Oliver's gut as he did so. "Now I've spent a lot of time preparing this, so do as you're told, and eat!"

Carter took a large plastic bowl from the other man and slammed it down next to Oliver, who was still doubled up in agony from Carter's attack. As his eyes began to focus he glanced down at the thin, greyish green liquid that lapped against the sides of the bowl, Lex's idea of prison food.

"Apologies to the chef, but I think I'll pass," he whispered, still trying to force air into his battered frame.

"Eat it!" The rage in Carter's voice was clear, his frustration at having no counter to Oliver's replies finally causing the man to snap. He leaned down and grabbed Oliver by the back of the head, slamming his face down into the bowl and sending splashes of the so-called meal in all directions.

"Not such a smart mouth now, are you, fancy boy," snarled Carter, pressing Oliver's face down into the liquid and watching as tiny bubbles floated to the surface around his head, a sign that the young man had exhaled. "When I tell you to do something, you do it – or next time I'll smash that face of yours to such a pulp that even your mom wouldn't recognise you." He continued to hold Oliver's head down into the liquid for a moment or two more, enjoying a sense of power as he felt his prisoner begin to panic and struggle in his grasp. At last he released his grip, and Oliver tumbled to one side, his chest heaving as he attempted to force air into his lungs.

Carter towered over Oliver, his anger giving way to pleasure as he looked down at his helpless prey.

"Look at you, Queen – not such a tough guy now, eh?" And with that he spat at Oliver, a grotesque gobbet of mucous falling cruelly on Oliver's right shoulder. It was a simple act, a casual signal of contempt by a sadistic thug, but for Oliver it seemed somehow worse than all the tortures that he had endured to this point. The shame that he felt as he looked up at his captor, the corners of whose mouth were twisting to form a contemptuous sneer, was almost overwhelming; that he should be reduced to this, a prisoner treated worse than a dog, filled him at that moment with such a sense of hopelessness and despair that it was as if all the humiliations and tortures of the last few days had finally conspired to overpower him.

Carter looked down at Oliver's helpless form, enjoying his latest petty triumph over the fallen hero. Queen might have had the benefit of the expensive education, he might have the power of words, but here _he _was the master, and he was determined to make Oliver bow to his will, to play his part in the breaking of this so-called hero. His eyes scanned across Oliver's exposed chest, still heaving after the most recent attack; the man was undoubtedly strong, with finely toned muscles the product of months, maybe years, of training. He looked the part, Carter had to acknowledge that, but that made the prospect of taking him apart all the more mouth watering. Lex, Akunin, Thomas, they all knew how to hurt a man, but here, now, Carter was in charge, and in his mind the time had come to show Oliver Queen who was really in control.

Carter's eyes wandered briefly to Oliver's tunic, the sides of the jacket having fallen open to reveal the lining as Oliver lay prostrate on the ground. He caught a glimpse of something white, a straight edge highlighted against the darkness of the material.

The photograph.

"Well now, what's pretty boy been hiding away from us here, I wonder," he said, reaching down towards the edge of white that had caught his attention. Too late did Oliver realise what was about to happen; desperately he reached across to pull his tunic back across his body, only to be greeted with a punch to the face from a Carter whose curiosity was now well and truly aroused.

"Now, now, don't be shy, Queen. Surely you want to share with your friends now, don't you?" said Carter, pulling the photograph from Oliver's tunic as he did so. Oliver's stomach turned as he watched Carter turn the picture over so that he could look at it clearly; a sensation of almost physical sickness swept through him as he realised that in that tiny moment, his last physical link with the world he had left behind had been snatched from him.

Carter seemed to half whistle as he looked down at the picture. "Well now, isn't this a pretty picture! The perfect couple – and she is hot! Queen, who's the bitch? Some whore you picked up down town?"

Seeing Carter's grubby hands holding the picture, hearing him talk about Chloe as if she were some cheap one-night stand, caused something to snap inside Oliver. Summoning what strength he could, he lunged at Carter, his arm outstretched in a futile attempt to retrieve the photo that meant so much to him. Carter easily sidestepped Oliver's doomed attack, leaving the young man lying helplessly on the floor.

"Easy now, hero! I guess she's more to you than some cheap hooker, eh? And there was me thinking you only had eyes for the spandex kid, Curry. Why, he's nearly as pretty as you are!" Carter was clearly warming to the moment, realising that he'd found something unexpected, a vulnerability on the part of his captive that he could exploit.

"Give it back," asked Oliver quietly, his head tilted upwards in the direction of the man who now gloated over him.

"What was that?"

"Give it back!" This time Oliver's voice was louder, more demanding – more desperate.

"And what do we say?"

Oliver knew where this was leading. Carter wanted to extract as much humiliation from this moment as he could, but then he remembered the promise he made to himself, the line that he had drawn in the sand.

He would not beg – not now, not ever.

"Give it back, you son-of-a-bitch!" And with that Oliver pulled himself from the floor, before again making a sudden lunge at Carter, his eyes focused on the photograph. Carter was surprised by the speed of Oliver's movement, but again his reactions were too quick; he sidestepped Oliver's attack, before wheeling round and grabbing Oliver from behind. He then slammed the young man hard against the bars of the cage, the force of the impact causing Oliver to wince with pain.

"You want this back, Queen? You want this picture of your bitch back?" asked Carter breathlessly as he pinioned Oliver against the bars of his prison, twisting one of Oliver's arms into the small of his back so that he was unable to struggle free of the big man's grasp. With his other hand he held the picture a few inches from Oliver's face, which was squashed side-on against the cold metal of the bars.

"You sick bastard!" said Oliver breathlessly.

"How about a game, Queen? Would you like that? If you can take me down you get your precious picture back – if you don't, I get to teach you a lesson you'll never forget. What do you think? Have we got a deal?"

Oliver said nothing, his eyes transfixed by the image of Chloe's smiling face, just a few inches away.

_I won't let you down, I promise you._

"I said, have we got a deal?" said Carter, twisting Oliver's arm so that the young man had to stifle the urge to cry out in pain.

"Go to hell!"

"You're not getting this, are you Queen? You either play my game, or I beat the crap out of you anyway. So what's it to be?"

Oliver did not reply, but within a second or two he felt Carter's grip release. For a moment he stood against the bars of the cage, taking what chance he could to recover for whatever lay in store for him.

"Okay, hero boy – let's see just how good you really are."

At the sound of Carter's voice Oliver slowly turned, to find Carter standing in the center of the cage. He'd taken off his jacket, which now lay on the floor near the door. Standing there was Carter's fellow goon, Stevens, clearly looking forward to the entertainment that was about to unfold.

Carter's eyes flamed with excitement. It was obvious that he was looking forward to the fight that he had engineered, a fight he expected to win. Carter was right to feel confident; Oliver was exhausted after his sessions with Thomas, and, where once he would have expected to take down a goon like Carter in three or four swift moves, now he was facing a situation where all the cards were stacked against him. He knew that he could not hope to move as quickly as he normally would, and that his reaction times were slower. His only hope was to take Carter out using the element of surprise, but then what? Stevens stood close by, and whatever the outcome of the fight, escape was impossible. He was trapped – and there was no way out.

For a few moments the two men stood, eying each other up in the silence of the chamber. Carter appeared ready for Oliver to attack, but when at last it came its ferocity surprised everyone, not least the man who delivered it. Oliver took two steps towards Carter, two apparently cautious steps, before suddenly, summoning the last reserves of energy he had, he propelled himself into the air, pirouetting 360 degrees before delivering a kick of bone crunching power straight into the center of Carter's gut. The man was sent flying backwards, a look of shock and surprise on his face before he hit the bars with a force that seemed to reverberate around the entire cage.

Oliver had gained the advantage, but it had cost him dear. His muscles cried out in agony at the sudden exertion of attack, and, instead of capitalising on his early success, his exhausted body fell awkwardly to the ground. Instantly his mind told him to get up, but the few seconds delay were all that Carter needed. A strong man, he recovered quickly from Oliver's assault, and, as the young hero at last drew himself to his feet, Carter's fist made contact with his jaw. The blow was shattering, whipping Oliver's head back and sending his entire body flying through the air. He landed heavily, momentarily disorientated. Carter was unrelenting; he pursued his wounded prey across the cage, grabbing Oliver under the shoulders and hauling him to his feet before slamming him against the bars of the cage.

"That all you got, pretty boy? Is that all the tough guy Green Arrow's got?" Carter's voice was breathless as he held Oliver against the bars of the cage. Oliver's head was swimming, but he could sense Carter's exaltation at his all too quick victory. The inevitable had happened – now Oliver would have to face the consequences.

"Well see how you feel about this, Mr hot-shot hero." Carter started to pound Oliver in the gut with his fists, raining down blows on Oliver's already battered body with a relentlessness and a brutality that was almost bestial. Oliver could do nothing to protect himself from Carter's savagery; his body pinioned against the bars, he could do no more than endure the beating that his tormentor was determined to administer.

It seemed to go on forever, but at last Carter stopped, exhausted by the ferocity of his assault on the stricken hero. Oliver slowly slumped to the ground, unable to move but thankful that at last the worst seemed to be over, and that Carter seemed to have satisfied his lust for blood.

He was wrong.

Carter leaned down, grabbing Oliver by the hair and pulling his head from the floor.

"You had enough, pretty boy?"

Oliver said nothing, his head spinning as he struggled to stay conscious.

"I said, have you had enough?"

Again there was silence.

"You know something, I don't think Mr Queen has learnt his lesson, do you?"

Stevens shrugged in agreement.

"Guess we'll just have to string him up and show him what real torture is all about, shan't we?"

Before Oliver had time to register the full meaning of Carter's words, he found himself being dragged towards the center of the cage. As Carter pulled off Oliver's tunic the young hero could hear the sound of a motor, and as his eyes began to focus he could make out the chains that had been used to shackle him during his first night in the cage slowly descending towards him. He knew what was about to happen, but was too weak to offer any more than token resistance; the manacles were placed expertly around his wrists, and all too quickly he felt himself being drawn once more into the air.

He could only have been a few inches off the ground when the motor stopped and he came to a standstill, his battered body swaying uselessly in the air. It might only have been a few inches, but the effect was the same as if he had been suspended many feet from the floor, and his muscles screamed in agony at this latest test of their endurance. Oliver gasped in pain, his eyes eventually falling on his sadistic tormentor, who now stood before him.

"Not such a big hero now, are you Queen?" sneered Carter, who then looked across at his associate. "Go fetch the whip – it's time this boy learnt something about what torture really means."

Stevens left the cage and made his way towards the door to the chamber, leaving Carter staring up at his helpless prey.

"I'm sorry, Queen, but I'm gonna hurt you – hurt you like you've never been hurt before. And when I'm finished, well, let's just say you ain't gonna look so pretty anymore."

A chill ran down Oliver's spine as he saw the vicious glee with which Carter delivered his words of warning. He felt so powerless, so impotent – but he knew he had to try something.

"And what about Akunin and Lex? Last time I looked disobeying orders was not a fast track to promotion in LuthorCorp."

Carter reached up and grabbed Oliver's chin. "Sorry, pretty boy, but you're not going to sweet talk your way out of this. I'm going to make you scream like the bitch you are, and nothing you can say will change that."

Carter then paused, appearing to remember something, before reaching into a pocket and pulling out a crumpled piece of paper, the remains of that precious picture. He held it out once more, making a point of seeming to examine it closely.

"Talking of bitches, she sure is pretty, this girl of yours." Carter then put the picture under his nose, breathing in deeply. "Why, I can almost smell her! I bet she tastes good. Does she taste good, Mr hot-shot hero? Does she?" In a grand gesture, Carter then licked the photograph, much as a child would lick the chocolate from a cookie, seeming to savour every moment. He never took his eyes off Oliver, enjoying the mixture of disgust and despair that he saw in the young man's eyes. It was another petty triumph, but Carter knew that it hurt his captive as much as any physical punishment; it left Oliver degraded, cheapened – robbed of the one thing of beauty that had helped to sustain him.

"Mmmm, she tastes as sweet as candy," he gloated. "Do you want a taste, Queen? Do you want one last taste of your pretty little girlfriend?" He then held the picture up to Oliver's mouth. Oliver instinctively turned away, but Carter was not to be denied; a fresh humiliation had formed itself in his mind.

"Come on, Queen – taste her," he demanded, reaching up and grabbing him by the hair. Still Oliver would not comply, his mouth remaining clamped shut.

"I said – taste her!"

Suddenly Carter punched Oliver in the gut. The young man gasped in agony, providing Carter with the opportunity he needed; in a split second he had rammed the crumpled picture into Oliver's mouth. Oliver's gag reflex kicked in as the paper filled his mouth, reaching the back of his throat. He contracted the muscles in his windpipe in an effort to expel the picture, but again Carter was too quick for him; suddenly Oliver felt a large hand grab his jaw, slamming it firmly shut.

"There now, Queen, I told you she tasted good, didn't I?" leered Carter, watching as Oliver struggled to avoid choking on the paper that now filled his mouth. "Now eat it – or I might just find my way round to your girl's house, and taste her in the flesh!"

Carter now took his free hand and pinched Oliver's nose, whilst maintaining his firm grip over Oliver's mouth. The intention was clear – to force Oliver to swallow. Oliver struggled desperately, but Carter's grip was vice-like; he could feel his lungs tightening and his throat contracting as the seconds ticked away, all the time Carter's eyes flashing with perverse pleasure at his degradation of the hero. Oliver thought of Chloe, and of all that he had lost – it felt as if the time of crisis had arrived, and that now, at that moment, he was about to die.

"Enough!"

A voice cut through the silence of the chamber – clear, strong, insistent.

A woman's voice.

Akunin's voice.

* * *

I warned you things were going to get bad for Ollie - and Akunin and Lex still have a lot more planned for him yet! Chloe will reappear soon, and gradually their two stories will start to weave together. Having said that, this story has got a LONG way to go - many more angsty twists and turns, even for me!

Thanks for reading, and especially for reviewing. Your reviews are just amazing, and are so important to me - without feedback it can be really hard to keep going sometimes. Please keep letting me know what you think - it means so much!

I'm still busy with work, so I may not be able to post next week - I promise to try my best!


	11. Chapter 11: Finding the Weakness

**Chapter Eleven: Finding the Weakness**

"Enough!"

Akunin's voice, commanding and clear, sounded across the emptiness of the chamber and cut through the desperate struggle between captor and captive. Instinctively Carter turned his head towards the sound of his boss, before at last relinquishing his hold on Oliver's mouth and nose. He took a step away from his victim, a mixture of frustration and anger on his face; Akunin's arrival had cheated him of the victory he so wanted over Oliver, and he could barely conceal his rage at being denied his moment of triumph. He stood motionless as Akunin approached the cage, her heels echoing around the chamber and combining with the sounds of Oliver's labored breathing as he tried to recover from the attack.

At last Akunin stepped inside the cage, glancing up at Oliver's shackled body before fixing Carter with a steely glare.

"My orders were quite clear, Mr Carter – on no account was Mr Queen to be harmed. Exactly what part of that did you not understand?"

Carter appeared to wither under Akunin's gaze, his defiance melting away. He now appeared little more than an overgrown schoolboy, awkward and embarrassed at having been found out by one of his teachers.

"He needed to be taught a lesson. I thought..."

"You didn't think, did you, Mr Carter?" interrupted Akunin. "What if you had killed him? Denied Mr Luthor his sport? You are not paid to think – you're paid to obey. Now get out."

Akunin turned away from Carter, signalling that she had no more use for him. Carter paused for a moment, taking one last look at his hapless victim before striding from the cage and making towards the exit to the chamber.

Akunin stared up at Oliver, whose head hung forward on to his chest. The young man's breathing was heavy, and Akunin could see his chest rising and falling, the sweat on his pectoral muscles glistening under the harsh electric light. Despite all the sessions in the torture room, all the abuse that Carter had heaped upon him, he was still a remarkable specimen, the very picture of physical perfection. For Akunin, he represented something new, something different. She had always taken pride in her work, enjoyed the thrill of taking her victims apart, but Oliver had produced in her something novel, something unique. His physical beauty, his defiance, his apparent invulnerability, all these things fascinated her, captivated her. She wanted to break him, yes, but she also wanted to possess him, in mind, in body, and in spirit. He would be her greatest challenge, but also her greatest triumph.

And now she knew how she would achieve that triumph.

For days she had observed him, searching for any sign of weakness, some opening that would allow her to get inside his head and destroy him from within. But there had been none. Yes, he had screamed during the sessions with Dr Thomas, the physical torment producing cries of such intensity that they seemed to come from somewhere beyond the realms of normal human experience. Thomas was a skilled practitioner, and he was certainly giving Lex what he wanted; Akunin herself had to admit that she had thrilled to see Oliver subjected to such agonies, his physical strength rendered useless in the face of the restraints that bound him to the table and the doctor's vicious needles. But it was not what she was looking for, not the weakness that she sought. Even when the treatments were at their worst, Akunin could sense that inside the young man remained strong; he had succeeded in putting up some sort of mental shield around himself, and behind that shield he remained in control, drawing strength from some hidden reserve of mental power. She needed to get behind that shield, to pierce his defences, but for days the means to that end had remained elusive.

Until now, of course. Akunin's lips curled into a smile as she looked down at the crumpled piece of paper that now lay on the ground in front of Oliver, the remains of the picture of Chloe that he had kept hidden for so long. She had watched the entirety of Carter's confrontation with Oliver on a monitor in a nearby control room, fascination turning into revelation as she realised the full significance of what she had witnessed. She had seen the desperation in Oliver's eyes when Carter had seized the picture, a look that told her the truth about Oliver Queen's relationship with Chloe Sullivan. The billionaire playboy was in love, that was all too clear, and it was that love which was sustaining him – Akunin was sure of it. She had found his weakness, and she could not help but thrill at the plan she had to exploit it, a plan that would not only rob him of his last hope of redemption, but also allow her to fulfil the fantasy that had taken hold of her mind ever since she had first laid eyes on the man beneath the hood of the Green Arrow, Oliver Queen.

"I must apologise for Mr Carter's behaviour, Oliver. His methods sometimes... well, sometimes they lack the finesse that I look for in my employees."

"Yeah? You just can't get sadistic apes like you used to, I guess." Oliver lifted his head as he replied to Akunin. His voice was weak, but his eyes still sparkled with the life-force that Akunin was determined to take from him.

Akunin smiled, before taking a couple of steps that brought her to within a few inches of Oliver's suspended form.

"I think you owe me a great deal, Oliver," she purred, her mouth hovering just to the left of Oliver's ear. "Another minute and my friend Mr Carter would have sliced you open, and all that beautiful skin would have been ruined forever." As she spoke she placed her right hand on Oliver's chest, allowing it to roam over the smooth, warm expanse of his muscles. Oliver flinched at her touch, a reminder that whilst the immediate danger of Carter's violence had passed, he was now in the presence of someone far more dangerous, and far more intelligent.

"Don't worry," whispered Akunin, sensing the tension in Oliver's muscles as her hand slipped down towards his exposed abdominals. "Carter's gone now – it's just us, all alone. And I'll never let anyone damage this handsome body of yours – you have my word."

Oliver did not respond. He could sense Akunin's warm breath on his face, feel her excitement as she explored his defenceless frame. This was building to something, he could feel it – but he didn't know what.

"You miss her, don't you? Your little journalist friend. Oliver Queen and Chloe Sullivan, the fairy tale come true. It must be hard, to find the love of your life, and then to lose her – so hard, so very hard." Akunin's voice was barely audible as she whispered into Oliver's ear, but the impact of her words was immediate. Oliver knew instantly that she had seen the confrontation with Carter, that she knew about the picture. His gut turned over as he thought what this might mean – both for himself, and for Chloe.

"And here you are, a prisoner with no hope of escape, facing....what? Months of captivity? Years? Who knows how long it will be before Lex loses interest and finally decides to put a bullet through that pretty little head of yours. Such a long time to survive without the love of your life....how will you do it, Oliver? How will you survive without Chloe Sullivan to keep you warm at night?"

Summoning up some reserves of energy, Oliver suddenly struggled against the chains that held him, forcing Akunin to take a step back.

"You stay away from her, do you hear me? She's got nothing to do with this...nothing."

Again Akunin smiled. Oliver's outburst had confirmed her suspicions – she had found her weakness.

"Ssshhhhh, Oliver," said Akunin, playfully holding two fingers against Oliver's lips. "You don't understand. I have no interest in Chloe Sullivan, no interest at all. But I am interested in you, Oliver – very interested indeed. I want to make your stay here as pleasurable as it can possibly be. You are missing your Chloe, and I can't do anything about that. But I can do something.....something to make your stay here a little less.....how can I put this? A little less lonely."

As Oliver tried to take in the full meaning of what he had just heard, Akunin withdrew her hand from Oliver's lips and reached into a pouch that she wore on her belt.

"What do you mean? What are you going to...." Oliver's words were smothered as suddenly Akunin pressed a white pad against his face, covering his nostrils and mouth. His eyes widened as he smelt the unmistakable aroma of chloroform.

Oliver struggled to escape the noxious fumes, but Akunin held his head firmly using her free hand so that there was no escape. Physically drained already, he rapidly succumbed to the effects of the chemical.

"That's right, Oliver, you go to sleep now," said Akunin as she watched Oliver's eyelids flicker, and then fall shut. "Soon you'll be mine, and I want you well rested for what I've got in store for you, my handsome hero."

* * *

Sorry this chapter is short, but I've not had much time for writing this week. Instead of making you wait another week, I'm writing this phase of the story in two parts - second installment next week.

Thanks for reading. Please do let me know what you think by posting a quick review. Even short ones are massively appreciated; it's great to get feedback, and without them it can sometimes be hard to write in what feels like a vacuum.


	12. Chapter 12: A Promise Fulfilled

**Chapter Twelve: A Promise Fulfilled**

The first thing Oliver was conscious of was the smell, the scent of fresh linen gradually finding its way through the chloroform induced haze that seemed to envelope him like an unseen blanket. It was an alien aroma, a smell so at odds with what he had become used to over the previous few days that it stirred his senses from the powerful effects of the drug that had been used to sedate him. For a few moments he lay unmoving, vaguely aware that he was on his back as his head struggled to readjust to the realities of consciousness. His head ached, and instinctively he moved to put his hand to his face – only to find he could not. Confused, he tried again, but for some reason that eluded him his limbs refused to comply.

What was going on? His memory was returning quickly now, in all its terrible truth – the loss of Chloe's picture, his ordeal at the hands of Carter, Akunin's arrival, the smell of chloroform in his nostrils as she held the rag over his face.... But where was he now? How long had he been out? Why was he unable to move? Curiosity at last overwhelmed him, and cautiously, fearfully, he at last opened his eyes.

Looking up he could see only the whiteness of a freshly painted ceiling, but instantly Oliver realised that something was different – he was no longer in the cage. Beneath him he felt the softness of fresh linen, and to his surprise he could sense that his head was nestling in the warm embrace of deep pillow. He was on a bed – but why? He turned his head to the right, to try to discover the reason for his apparent inability to move. It didn't take him long to find the answer to his question, as he saw that his wrist was handcuffed to the headboard of the bed; a quick glance to his left confirmed that his left wrist was similarly secured.

A sense of panic starting to well up inside him, Oliver pulled hard at the manacles, but to no avail – his surroundings might be more comfortable, but he was as much a prisoner now as he had been back in the cage. Still suffering from the after-effects of the drug, it was with some difficulty that he lifted his head to try to take in more of his new cell. For a few moments his head swam as it reached a vertical position, but eventually his vision cleared, and he could see that he now lay in a small room. Initially it appeared featureless, save for the bed on which Oliver now lay, but quickly Oliver's attention was drawn to the blinking light of a security camera, situated high in one corner and trained directly at where he lay. Inwardly he sighed as he realised that once again his every move was being monitored; no doubt his captors had witnessed his return to consciousness, and would soon be rejoining him. He then turned his head to the left, to find a small chair positioned next to the bed; an unremarkable piece of furniture, what lay over the back of it nonetheless caused Oliver's heart to miss a beat.

There, lying unfolded, were his leather pants, their shape still showing the form of the legs that once filled them.

Oliver's gut turned over as he looked down to find his worst fears confirmed – he was naked, save for a pair of boxer shorts.

A powerful sense of foreboding now gripped him, as he thought back to Akunin's chilling promise:

"_I can do something.....something to make your stay here a little less.....how can I put this? A little less lonely."_

He didn't have time to reflect any further on what might be about to befall him, as suddenly the door to the room opened, and Akunin stepped alone into the room. Closing the door gently behind her, she then took the four or five steps necessary to bring her to Oliver's bedside. She stood silently for a few moments, a curious half-smile dancing on her lips as she surveyed the helpless form of her captive laid out before her; it was clear that she was enjoying the tension that her entrance had created, and the sense of complete control that she now exercised over the once powerful hero. Oliver's heartbeat quickened as he watched the predator who now towered over him – both knew that he was utterly at her mercy, and both knew that what was to follow was to be something so uniquely evil that it made Oliver's blood run cold.

"Did you have a good rest, Oliver?" asked Akunin, perching on the edge of Oliver's bed as she spoke. The young man tried to pull away as she came close, but it was impossible; not only were his wrists cuffed, but his ankles too were manacled to the foot of the bed.

"Now, now, Oliver, don't be like that," purred Akunin, reaching up to gently stroke Oliver's hair. Instinctively he turned his head away, but she persisted; every nerve in his body was on edge as she slowly allowed her hand to run through his hair before slipping down to his face, her fingertips caressing his cheek. Her touch made him feel physically sick, his body reacting to what his brain would not yet fully acknowledge was about to happen.

"So is my handsome hero ready, then? I can't tell you how much I've been looking forward to this, Oliver. You and I together – How many women of Metropolis would swap places with me now, I wonder? Dozens, I suspect. And we both know one little journalist who would give her all to be in my place now, don't we?"

At this Oliver turned to look at Akunin, his eyes blazing with fury.

"Get your hands off me, you sick bitch! Whatever twisted fantasies are going on in that head of yours, they're not going to happen – period. I'll never play your games, do you hear me? Never!"

Akunin only smiled at Oliver's outburst. "Ahh, Oliver – how brave you are! Loyal to your little Chloe to the last. The great Oliver Queen is in love – but that love will now destroy you. I'm going to take you, Oliver – take you completely. There is nothing you can do to prevent it. I am going to rob you of the one thing that sustains you, the thing that gives you hope – your love for Chloe Sullivan. I'm going to make you betray her, Oliver – what do you think about that? How strong will you feel when I take from you the last thing that gives your life meaning? How noble will you feel then? The great Green Arrow, a slave to his instincts like every other man. You'll be nothing, Oliver – and I will have won."

"You're dreaming, Akunin. There is no way I'll ever betray Chloe – not with you, not with anyone!" Oliver's words were strong, but his voice was not – there was something about Akunin's manner, something in her eyes, that told him that she had the means to make good on her promise.

Akunin reached inside her jacket pocket, and pulled out a small syringe.

"Now shall we get started, Oliver? I'm eager to find out whether the stories about Star City's most eligible bachelor are true."

She looked down at her captive, and to her satisfaction found him transfixed by the syringe that she now clasped in her hand.

"You're wondering about this? Just a little something Dr Thomas has prepared for me, something to make you a little more....cooperative."

She then gripped Oliver's arm firmly, before bringing the syringe to within an inch of his skin. She paused, glancing up and into his eyes. There was fear there – a fear she had not seen before. It was a look of terror that confirmed what she had suspected, a look that filled her with a sense of exaltation.

She was about to break Oliver Queen, more completely and absolutely than any torment Lex or Carter could dream up in their wildest imaginings. And she would do it not by breaking his body, but by breaking his soul – _by breaking his heart._

She plunged the syringe into Oliver's arm.

* * *

So Akunin is about to have her way with Oliver - or is she? I'm not saying, beyond the fact that she has got a lot more torments lined up for our guy before this is over. Time to return to Chloe's story next week, and the beginnings of bringing the Ollie and Chloe threads together.

I'd appreciate it SO much if you could let me know what you think about what you read. All reviews - long and short - mean a huge amount, and I am so grateful to hear from you.

Thanks again for reading - more next week!


	13. Chapter 13: An Unexpected Invitation

**Chapter Thirteen: An Unexpected Invitation**

Chloe sat at the computer terminal, her eyes scanning the closely typed text as she carefully scrolled down the page of the latest document she was reviewing. It was late afternoon, and she'd been sitting there for at least two hours, reviewing and cross-referencing document after document in Oliver's files concerning 33.1. He'd built up almost a library of material on Lex's operation since he'd begun his crusade against LuthorCorp all those months ago, and Chloe had already been through it all at least twice already, searching for something, anything, that might give her the lead she needed to complete Oliver's mission. Part of her knew that her search would be fruitless – after all, if Oliver had not found the key to bringing down LuthorCorp in these files, what chance had she? But still she searched, partly out of hope, partly out of desperation, but, perhaps most of all, because of her overwhelming need to keep busy. It was now two days since her encounter with Dr Thomas, two days of silence. She'd been so excited by her confrontation with the doctor, so convinced that she would provoke Lex into some sort of action, that his failure to respond had come as a bitter disappointment. At first she'd been patient, assuring Jimmy that their enemy would rise to the bait, but now with every hour that passed it seemed increasingly likely that Dr Thomas was not going to be the break that she so desperately sought. And the waiting was killing her, giving her time once more to dwell on her loss, to think of what might have been....

Then there was the picture. As she read the text displayed in front of her her mind flashed back to that awful moment when she realised that she had lost it. She'd searched desperately to find it, turning her bag out on to the floor and getting down on to her knees to go through its contents with an ever increasing sense of panic and despair. That picture had meant so much to her, that moment of togetherness she'd shared with Oliver just before his departure to Rio captured forever. But now it was gone, a stupid moment of carelessness robbing her of yet another physical connection with the lover she had lost. Tears had flowed when at last she gave up the search, forced to acknowledge that the picture was gone. She'd cried as she'd cried when she first learnt of Oliver's death, an overwhelming sense of loneliness once more sweeping through her like an irresistible tide of misery. But Jimmy had been there for her, holding her gently in his arms as she'd sobbed uncontrollably. He'd known the right things to say, the right words of reassurance to offer her; it was almost as if in this time of grief she'd found a substitute for Clark to give her the strength to carry on. How she would have survived these last few days without him she did not know – Jimmy had been her rock, and for that she would be forever grateful.

Suddenly the sound of an electronic buzzer disturbed the silence of the penthouse, heralding the arrival of a visitor at the foot of the elevator shaft. Chloe jumped inside, so unexpected was the sound, before glancing across at Jimmy, who sat at a nearby table, working through some papers. The two looked at each other, each wondering the same thing – was this Lex at last taking the bait?

Chloe got up and took the few steps required to bring her to the elevator. She pressed the button which allowed her to communicate with the unknown visitor in the street below.

"Hello?" she enquired, her heart beating slightly faster in her chest.

"Chloe, is that you? It's Lex Luthor – I thought we should talk."

Chloe looked back towards Jimmy, her eyes wide as she mouthed Lex's name to her friend. She'd hoped her visit to Lex would provoke a response, but she'd not anticipated this – a visit from the man himself, here, to Oliver's apartment. What did it mean? What was going to happen? After looking at Jimmy for a few seconds for some sort of guidance as to how respond, she turned back to the intercom.

"Lex? I've been expecting you – come up." As she spoke she tried desperately to hide the excitement in her voice, eager to project a sense of control and authority. But as she pressed the button which allowed access to the elevator below, she felt a sudden sense of anxiety take hold of her – she was about to go face to face with one of the most dangerous men she'd ever known, the man who had claimed Oliver's life, and now, at this moment of confrontation, she wondered whether she had the strength to hold her nerve.

"Lex? Here? What does he want?" asked Jimmy as Chloe dashed to her computer and started to close the files she had been studying.

"I said Lex would take the bait, didn't I?" she replied breathlessly, searching the room for any other evidence of her investigation into 33.1 or anything that could link Oliver to the Justice League. "Now hide those files, and when he gets here, let me do the talking, okay?"

Jimmy did as he was told, gathering up the papers from the table and slipping them inside his bag just as the sound of the elevator arriving at the top of the shaft signalled the imminent arrival of Lex. Chloe moved away from the computer and took up a position in the center of the penthouse, opposite the elevator grille; she wanted to look composed, ready to welcome Oliver's killer into his home.

The grille was pulled upwards, to reveal the unmistakable figure of Lex Luthor, immaculately attired in a business suit and open necked shirt. He stood for a moment, perhaps relishing the sense of drama that his appearance must have provoked in those who now awaited him. He was here to enjoy himself, to play a little game, a game that he hoped would add a new dimension to his torment of his captive languishing only a mile or so away, deep in the bowls of the LuthorCorp building.

At last Lex stepped forward to greet Chloe, who stood rooted to the spot in the center of the penthouse. Although he was in enemy territory, it was Lex who instantly had command of the situation; it was as if he were the host, and Chloe the nervous, uncertain guest.

"Chloe – it's been too long," he said, kissing her on the cheek in a gesture of greeting that made her flesh crawl. "I was so sorry to hear about Oliver – is there any news?"

Lex's feigned concern deceived no one in the room, but the rules of this game were clear to all. All three had secrets, an understanding of the true motives and actions of the others. But this was not about truth – this encounter was to be all about pretence, each side sizing up the other and well aware that the reality of the events of the last week and Oliver's fate must remain unspoken. For Lex the situation was an unalloyed pleasure. He knew that he possessed a stronger hand than his two nervous adversaries; only he knew what had really happened to Oliver. They would have to persist with their cover story that he was missing in some aircraft accident, and all the time they would be wondering whether he knew the truth about Oliver's secret double life as the Green Arrow. He knew it all – including her role, not just as Oliver's lover, but as the Green Arrow's sidekick. They, however, knew only uncertainty – and it was a position that Lex was determined to savour.

"No...there's no news....none at all." As she spoke Chloe cursed herself for being so tongue tied in the face of her adversary. She'd got what she wanted – Lex, brought out into the open – but it was if the reality of his presence, here, in Oliver's penthouse, had suddenly drained her of all her confidence and determination.

Lex said nothing for a moment, but just stared at Chloe, enjoying her discomfort behind a veneer of concern. When at last he spoke his voice was filled with a false sympathy that seemed to almost ooze with insincerity.

"A tragedy – there's no other word for it. Oliver and I may have had our differences, but we go back a long way. It seems hard to accept he's gone.....and so much harder for you, of course. The two of you looked so happy when I last saw you – to have him taken from you so suddenly must be almost too much to bear."

"You talk as if he's already dead – he may yet be found alive, you know."

"Of course! We must never give up hope – he did survive a year on that island, after all. But..," Lex paused, fixing Chloe with an unwavering gaze, "I sense as if you know he's not coming back this time, don't you, Chloe?"

He waited, watching for some flicker of recognition, some sign that his allusion to the charred remains in the warehouse down in Rio had hit home. Did she flinch, almost imperceptibly? He thought she did. Enjoying himself, Lex decided to press on.

"Actually, I came here for another reason, apart from to enquire after Oliver," he said, taking a few steps further into the penthouse and passing Chloe, before coming to a halt as he spotted Jimmy sitting in a far corner, watching proceedings. "You visited an employee of mine the other day, a Dr Thomas."

Chloe felt her heartbeat quicken once more. At last they were getting to it – but how would Lex respond to her challenge?

"That's right – I was following up something Ollie was researching before he went missing, something to do with LuthorCorp's operations down in Rio, and 33.1"

Lex paused again, before turning to confront Chloe.

"So Oliver was investigating me before he went missing? How interesting."

"Oliver was on to you, Lex, and he was determined to expose you for what you really are. He might not be around anymore, but I'm going to..."

"Finish what he started? Bring me to my knees?" Lex's words, calm and assured, cut off Chloe's outburst mid-sentence. "Oliver always was jealous of my success, and now you think you are going to finish his life's work, honour his memory by bringing me down, is that it? Chloe, I understand you're grieving, I'm grieving too, but you've got to let go, let him rest..."

"Shut-up, Lex! Don't you talk about him, do you hear? Don't you dare say his name!" Again as Chloe spoke she felt angry at herself, this time for her loss of control. He was getting to her, that much was clear – she needed to stay calm, to stay focused.

"I'm sorry, Chloe – I didn't mean to upset you." Lex's voice was smooth, but laced with false concern. "Whatever you hope to find on me, I assure you, it isn't there. Yes, I've got an operation in Rio, and yes, Dr Thomas works for me, but his research is entirely benign. In fact, I'm holding a launch event outlining the results of his work in two day's time at LuthorCorp. I'd be delighted if you and your friend here came along - just to put the record straight, of course."

An invitation into the lion's den! Chloe didn't know what she'd expected, but it wasn't this. She sensed it was some sort of trap, but the opportunity was too good to pass up. She knew that Lex knew that too, but what choice did she have?

"We'll be there," she replied simply.

"Good – I'll look forward to seeing you then," said Lex, who began to make for the elevator shaft. He paused next to Chloe, reaching out and taking her by the hand. "And whatever you think, Chloe, I am sorry about Oliver. He was a man of hidden depths – I shall miss him."

Chloe recoiled from his touch, and Lex turned and started towards the exit. Standing on the threshold of the elevator, he turned once more towards Chloe, as if remembering something.

"You know it's funny that Oliver should be interested in my Rio operation. A few days ago it was attacked by terrorists – totally destroyed. My only consolation is that one of the attackers died in the explosion – killed by his own bomb." Lex paused once more, studying Chloe's face intently for any response to this parting shot. "Poetic justice, don't you think? Sooner or later everyone gets what they deserve – even terrorists masquerading as vigilante heroes." And with that he turned and stepped inside the elevator, catching sight of Chloe's ashen face as he pulled down the grille and pressed the button to descend to the street.

As Lex disappeared from view Chloe felt a sudden release of nervous tension. She breathed deeply, attempting to calm herself down as her heart continued to pump hard in her chest. She looked down at her hands, only to find them shaking – Lex had made an impact, exactly as he had wanted.

"Wow! That was intense," said Jimmy, appearing in front of her, his face a picture of genuine concern. He glanced down at her hands, and, seeing that they still shook, he clasped them between his own.

"Hey! You did fine, okay?" he said, trying to offer her reassurance.

Chloe smiled thinly. "Yeah, right! One encounter with Lex Luthor and I'm shaking like a leaf! What chance have I got of bringing down the most powerful man in Metropolis? I don't even believe it myself."

"I believe in you," replied Jimmy quietly, staring into her eyes and speaking with an intensity that for a split second took Chloe aback.

"Oh, Jimmy, what would I do without you?" said Chloe lightly, choosing to ignore the vaguely unsettling feeling that Jimmy's last words had left in her mind. "I don't know how I'd survive this without you here to help me – you really are the best friend a girl could have."

She then leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek, before withdrawing her hands from his grasp and walking over to her computer. She started to type furiously at her keyboard, focused intently on her screen.

"What are you going to do?" asked Jimmy, slipping once more into the role of devoted sidekick.

"Well its clear Lex is planning something – he didn't invite us to that event for no reason," said Chloe, not looking up from her terminal. "Well two can play at that game, Jimmy. If we're going to be invited into LuthorCorp, we're not coming away empty handed."

"What do you mean?"

"We're going to do some sleuthing, Jimmy! Where better to get the low-down on 33.1 than at the center of Lex's operation?"

Jimmy looked at her doubtfully, his expression saying more than any words could.

Chloe glanced across at him, instantly sensing his concern.

"Don't worry! We're not going in alone. I'm just getting in touch with the guys. In two days time Lex is going to be welcoming more than just the great and good of Metropolis to his launch event – he's going to be welcoming the Justice League!"

* * *

I promised you a Chloe chapter, and here it is - with added Lex! As you can see, I'm setting things up for some major developments in the chapters to come, and yes, some JLA action too. I enjoyed writing this one (confrontations are always fun to write), although I had to work hard to remember exactly who knows what. I think I've got it right - Chloe thinks Ollie died in the warehouse in Rio, but that Lex doesn't know it was him, whilst Lex knows the cover story about Ollie is a sham.

As for Ollie....Well, the next chapter will resolve last week's cliffhanger, I promise!

Please do review - I appreciate the feedback immensely, and reviews still have the power to make my day!


	14. Chapter 14: I'm a Part of You

**Chapter Fourteen: I'm a Part of You, Oliver Queen**

The first thing Oliver was aware of was the pain – a dull, throbbing sensation, it seemed as if it pervaded his entire being, from his tortured muscles to his drug-affected brain. He lay still as slowly, ever-so slowly, he tried to readjust to the realities of consciousness. For minutes – maybe even hours, he had no sense of time – he did not move, did not even open his eyes, perhaps a result of some sub-conscious awareness that what would await him would be too terrible to confront. He could not think, but could only feel, and for an eternity all that he could feel was that dull, throbbing pain that seemed as if it would never subside, never fade into the background. He had endured so much, it was as if with every new torment his body needed longer to recover, longer to regenerate and be ready to face the next phase of his apparently never-ending ordeal.

At last the fog that clouded his brain, and which seemed to swirl with the rhythm of the pain that pulsed through his body, began to clear. Where once there had been only fleeting images and disjointed, disconnected thoughts, at last there was order, a sense of understanding, of comprehension. Memories began to return to his brain, memories which immediately Oliver wished had remained suppressed. He became aware of a cold, clammy film of sweat forming over his skin as the image of Akunin poised over him filled his mind, a syringe clasped in her hand as she made ready to.... do what? What had happened? He could recall the needle plunging into his exposed flesh, but then his memory failed him. But why? What had she given him? He recalled her promises to take him, possess him absolutely – had she made good on those promises? If she had why could he not remember? Or was it all part of some elaborate game, another trick designed to get inside his mind, destroy him from within? The uncertainty was unbearable, and with every second that passed his sense of panic began to increase. Beads of sweat ran down his face, as in his mind's eye all he could see was her face, and that terrible smile as she plunged the needle into his arm...

Oliver's eyes snapped open, preferring whatever reality might have to offer to the terrors of his memory. The sight of bars a few feet away told him what he needed to know – he was back in his cell. There was relief in that, for, however bad his captivity his was, at least he was not lying on that bed, chained and helpless and the plaything of that woman. He tried to move, but found that he could not. Glancing down, the reason was instantly clear – he was once more tightly bound, hand and foot. Not only were his hands and feet secured with cord, but additional rope had been placed around his knees and his upper body, meaning that he could do little more than slide himself across the hard floor of his prison. Painful as his bonds were, Oliver again felt relief, as he found that once more he was fully clothed, the familiar feel of his leathers against his skin seeming to offer yet more reassurance. Perhaps it had all been a game, some sort of twisted amusement on the part of his jailer. After all, surely Lex wouldn't have allowed her to take him, not like that.....

His mind now fully restored, Oliver twisted awkwardly on to his back, before turning on to his other side in order to give his muscles some relief from their prolonged inactivity. It was then that he saw it, standing on the floor of the cage just a few feet from where he lay: a laptop. He stared at it for a moment, not quite sure how to react – for a split second he even thought it might be some sort of new torture device, designed to inflict some fresh humiliation upon him. But the laptop did nothing, the LuthorCorp logo which floated around the display in its role as a screensaver the only sign that it was active.

What did it mean? The laptop seemed so incongruous, sitting there on the floor of his prison, like some reminder of another world of normality that he had left behind. As Oliver tried to make sense of its presence he could only be certain about one thing – it was not here by chance. He knew that it was here for a purpose, but quite what that purpose was he could not determine. As he watched the LuthorCorp logo float silently around the screen he was aware of a growing sense of unease slowly taking hold of him.

The sound of the door to the chamber opening finally drew his attention away from the laptop. His heart sank as he saw that it was Akunin who was now making her way towards him, the crisp sound of her heels on the polished floor echoing with menacing familiarity around the large empty space. Anyone would have been preferable to Akunin at that point – Carter, with his liking for simple brutality, even Lex, with his gloating sense of triumph – anyone but _her_. Oliver found that he could not take his eyes from her as she came ever closer, like a predator closing in on her helpless prey. A cold sweat once again took hold of him, and, despite the expression of stoical defiance with which he fixed his features, he could not deny the dominant emotion that now pervaded his being, an emotion that he knew she would detect, whatever his outward appearance:

Fear.

"So you're awake at last – I was starting to worry about you." Akunin's voice, playful and mocking, pierced the silence as she unlocked the gate to the cage, stepping calmly inside before turning to tower over her captive. Her eyes swept over his prone form, lingering salaciously where his muscles strained against the ropes that now bound him. She had looked at him like this before – like a piece of meat, something to be admired, like some work of art made flesh – but after their last encounter, her expression took on a wholly new, and more sinister, meaning. Oliver looked up at her with a mixture of anger and uncertainty. If what he feared was true, he would learn soon enough, and inside he was desperately trying to find a way, any way, to cope with the nightmare that now awaited him.

"My, my, you do fill those leathers well, Oliver," she continued, squatting down next to him and placing a hand on one of his thighs, allowing it to caress the smooth material. "And they fit you so perfectly! It was quite a struggle slipping you into these pants, I can tell you. But you know something, Oliver? I didn't mind – not one bit. Not after all the fun we'd had together."

As she said those last words she looked straight into his eyes, eager to observe his reaction. She saw the flicker of fear that she had wanted to see, the sign that her cruel game could continue. For Oliver her words were loaded with meaning; the thought that she had dressed him whilst he was unconscious was bad enough, but the implications of that last sentence – well, it seemed to confirm that his worst fears were about to be realised.

"What? No questions? I know Dr Thomas's drug wipes your memory clean, so you must have questions, Oliver – questions about what we did together after I plunged that syringe into your arm."

"I don't want anything from you, do you hear me? Nothing!"

"Oliver, Oliver, we both know that's not true. You're desperate to know whether I fulfilled my promise to take you, whether you're prepared to admit it or not. Well let me put the Green Arrow out of his misery." Akunin paused, leaning in close so that she was just inches from Oliver's face. She hesitated for a split second, enjoying the look of fear that was now all too obvious in her captive's eyes.

"I did."

Oliver's eyes widened as those two simple words fell from her lips. A wave of nausea spread through him, as at last he had the confirmation that he had feared was coming, but still did not want to admit.

"You're lying."

"Am I? You'd like to believe that, wouldn't you? That this is all part of some elaborate game, and that the heart of the great Green Arrow remains true to his love, the beautiful Miss Sullivan. Well I'm sorry, Oliver, but its true – and in your heart you know it's true, don't you? You know you've betrayed her, just as all men betray the ones they claim to care for."

Oliver did not reply, but simply stared into his captor's eyes, searching vainly for some sign that she was indeed lying.

There was none.

At last Akunin pulled away, reaching across to the laptop that sat nearby.

"I have to say, Oliver, you didn't disappoint," she continued in a matter-of-fact fashion, typing the keys to bring up on screen the next phase of his humiliation. "I was worried that you wouldn't live up to my expectations – after all, outward appearances can be deceptive, can't they? But you – you certainly lived up to your playboy reputation. No wonder Chloe adores you – I'm sure she can't quite believe her luck, capturing the heart of the great Oliver Queen. What would she think if she knew the truth now, do you think? Betrayal by the man you adore – no one quite ever gets over that, now do they?"

"You drugged me, you bitch - whatever you did to me, you did it against my will, and you know it."

"Believe that if you want, Oliver. But Thomas's drug can't make you do anything you don't want to do – it simply releases your inhibitions, unleashes the true man hidden beneath that oh so superior veneer of heroism that you cloak yourself in. So I did nothing to you, Oliver – what we shared, we shared together."

Oliver had no reply. A multitude of emotions raged within him – anger, frustration, fear, shame, they all seemed to be competing for mastery within him. Above all, perhaps, he felt hate – hate at the woman who now so calmly taunted him about how she had robbed him of the one thing that had sustained him thus far – the purity of his love for Chloe.

Her work at the laptop seemingly done, Akunin turned back towards Oliver.

"I know you can't remember what happened between us, Oliver, and that's not fair – I know that. You were so magnificent last night, I thought we'd relive those precious moments we had together, so I've had some footage from the surveillance cameras put together for us – the quality, as you'll see, is quite exceptional."

A look of shock fell across Oliver's features, as the full horror of what Akunin planned started to dawn on him. Not only had she violated him, but now she intended to force him to watch it on film, an act of unalloyed depravity.

"You bitch! I'll kill you for this, I swear, I'll....." Oliver's words, suffused with impotent rage and terror, were cut short as Akunin stuffed a small piece of rag into his mouth. Before he was able to spit it out, he heard the familiar sound of duct tape being ripped from its roll; he could only offer token resistance as she pressed a strip firmly over his mouth.

"There – that's much better! I do hate people talking through movies, don't you? Now let's get comfortable." She then grabbed Oliver from behind, pulling him up from the floor and back against her chest, so that he eventually came to rest sitting upright, Akunin's arm stretched across his torso to hold him in place as she sat behind him on the hard floor.

"I think you're going to enjoy this, Oliver – I know I will." Akunin's words, spoken just inches from behind Oliver's head, sounded loaded with anticipation. Despair overwhelmed him as he realised that there was to be no escape from his captor's latest torment, and as he watched he could see the video beginning to play on the screen in front of him. He tried to turn his head away, to close his eyes, but Akunin was one step ahead of him – the press of a blade hard against the exposed flesh of his neck told him that this was one movie he was not be allowed to miss.

"Watch it, Oliver!" hissed Akunin. Her tone had changed – gone was the playful mockery, to be replaced by something harsher, more vicious. "I want you to watch this, lover boy – watch it and understand just how pathetic, how weak, you really are!"

And so it began, the video that Oliver would have given anything not to see. Akunin was right about the quality of the picture, and so there could be no denying the reality of the images that now assaulted his senses. The two of them were together, making love. To an outsider it would have seemed almost beautiful, two young people apparently surrendering to each other without reservation, enjoying a moment of pure intimacy. Only a knowledge of what truly lay behind these scenes – the drug, the abuse, the intent to hurt, to destroy – made the reality of what Oliver saw a true nightmare. Nothing appeared forced, and Oliver could see himself surrendering to his instincts as naturally as he had done so many times before, as he had done with Chloe...._Chloe!_ His whole body seemed to flush with shame to even think of her name when confronted with such terrible evidence of his betrayal. The rational part of his brain told him to stay focused, to remember that what he saw was not really him, but was instead the work of the drug that she had so cruelly administered. But his emotions....they told a different story. The only thing which had kept him going since his ordeal had begun had been the purity of his love for Chloe, something which he felt certain not even Lex could take away from him. But now that seemed to have gone forever, swept away into the gutter of his own weakness, his own humanity. He might wear the costume, he might have the money, he might dream the dreams of a hero, but when all was said and done Akunin was right – he was a man, a weak, pathetic man, unable to hold true to the one thing he claimed meant more to him than any other.

Transfixed by the terrible images that filled the screen and a slave to the tumult of emotions that raged within him, Oliver was largely oblivious to the woman who continued to press the blade of the knife against his throat. Hidden from his view, Akunin's face was a picture of malevolence as she rested her head on his, the casual gesture of a lover now transformed into a lethal embrace. She breathed deeply, taking in the smell of his hair, just as she had done hours before when their bodies had been joined as lovers. This was the moment of ultimate victory, she knew that – never again would the intoxication of breaking a man from within be quite as heady as this moment. She had searched for the weakness of the man whose spirit seemed invulnerable, and she had found it, in a form that had allowed her to indulge her wildest fantasies. Their lovemaking had been intense, overpowering, but it was as nothing to what she felt at that moment. Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow, was hers – she had destroyed him as surely as she had broken so many men before him. And she had done it not with violence, not with the force of a fist or the lash of a whip – no, she had done it by violating his very soul.

At last the video came to an end, and for a few moments neither moved. Finally Akunin pushed Oliver away, before getting to her feet and closing up the laptop. It was over, for now at least, and Akunin knew that it was time for her to leave, to allow the full enormity of what he had seen to sink into Oliver's brain, where she knew it would fester, like a wound that would not heal. But there was time for one last humiliation – one final coup de theatre.

"I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did, lover boy," she said, reaching inside her jacket pocket. "I'm afraid I can't let you have a copy, but I've done the next best thing. I hope you like it – consider it a replacement for that photo of Chloe that you loved so much." She then produced a picture, and knelt down next to Oliver so that he could see it clearly. It was a moment from the video, a close-up that caught the two of them in a lover's embrace, their mouths locked in a passionate a kiss.

"We look so good together, don't you think? Perhaps I'll mail a copy to sweet little Chloe – I'm sure she'd be delighted to see how faithful her handsome hero really is." And with that she lowered the zip on Oliver's tunic, before slipping it into the pocket where once the image of Chloe had been. "There – right next to your heart, just where it belongs."

Akunin then stood, towering one final time over her captive. She had played her game, enjoyed toying with her prey like a cat would toy with a mouse. Her mouth twisted into a contemptuous smile as Oliver stared up at her. His eyes said it all. Gone was the flash of defiance, the anger of a man whose spirit still burned strongly. Instead there was fear in those eyes, weakness – the weakness of a man who knew that he had lost.

"Look at you, Queen," she said. Her voice was hard and vindictive; the game was over, and it was time for her true nature to reveal itself. "The man who thought he would be a hero, reduced to...what? Nothing. That's all you are, Oliver – nothing. When all the money's stripped away you're nothing but a pretty face in a leather costume, a man who couldn't even stay true to the woman he loves. The truth hurts, doesn't it? And you know the best thing? You're going to have to live with that truth until Lex finally decides to snuff your worthless little life out for good. And if I know Lex, that's not going to be for a long time yet. Weeks, months, years.... and there won't be a minute that passes by that you won't think about what you've just seen, remember what you've done. I'm inside your head now, Oliver – _I'm a part of you, and however much you try, you'll never be able to escape that."_

Her work done, Akunin turned and walked calmly from the cage, pausing to lock the door behind her. Oliver lay motionless as the sound of her footsteps gradually receded, until at last he heard the door to the chamber closing behind her.

And then the lights went out, plunging him into darkness.

How did he feel? A mass of emotions raged within him – desperation, anger, fear, humiliation, and a thousand more. But, perhaps above all else, he felt overwhelmed by a sense of shame. He'd known the risks of the life he'd chosen, and mentally he'd prepared himself for the possibility of capture, the terrors of physical torture. Because of this he'd been able to withstand the torments of Dr Thomas, the beatings at the hands of Carter, the taunts of Lex, but what Akunin had done....nothing had prepared him for that. With forensic precision she had found out his source of inner strength, the love that sustained him, and she had torn it apart as if it were a worthless scrap of paper. How had she described him? _A man who couldn't stay true to the woman he loves_. As he lay there in the darkness, the fact that she had drugged him, forced herself upon him, seemed to make no difference – he had betrayed Chloe, and that truth – so agonising, so terrible, so shameful – was now the inescapable reality he had to confront.

_I'm a part of you, and however much you try, you'll never be able to escape that._

In the silence of the darkness, a solitary tear slid slowly down Oliver's cheek.

* * *

Can things get any worse for Ollie? Maybe....

That was a pretty intense chapter to write - I hope I've got it right, and you enjoyed reading it. We've still got a lot of twists and turns to come in this story, and some really dramatic chapters (including some JLA action) to come in the near future. Unfortunately the next update won't be for two weeks or so - there is no way I'm going to have time to write in the next week.

Thanks for reading, and especially for reviewing. Last week there wasn't a lot of feedback - I'm hoping that was because of problems with the site, rather than you all loosing interest! Reviews mean so much, it really would be great to hear from you.


	15. Chapter 15: Into Battle

**Chapter Fifteen: Into Battle**

Chloe sat in silence at the wheel of her car, her heart seemingly beating ever more strongly as she negotiated her way through the early evening traffic that daily clogged the streets of downtown Metropolis. She could feel her body begin to tense as she drew closer to her destination, the LuthorCorp building and the reception for the city's great and the good to which she had been invited just two days before. Those two days had passed in a blur of planning and preparation, as she and the guys had first decided on their course of action, and then put in place what was needed to make it happen. And now the moment had come – and, just as she had been overtaken by anxiety when she had gone face to face with Lex forty-eight hours earlier, so once more she could feel the nerves beginning to take hold as she thought of what might lay ahead.

Trying to reassure herself, she thought of the guys who now stood ready to go into action alongside her. Over the last two days she had come to appreciate the strength of the team that Oliver had assembled more than ever before. Victor, Bart and AC had not hesitated when she had sent out the call for help, and the way they had worked together in preparing for this mission had made Chloe's heart swell with pride. The Justice League may have lost its leader, but the legacy of the Green Arrow lived on in the determination and courage that sparkled in the eyes of these three young men as they prepared to honour the memory of their fallen mentor. Oliver truly had created something special when he assembled three so very different characters and fashioned them into a team dedicated to risking all in the fight for what was right, and Chloe felt sure that as Oliver looked down on them from heaven, he too must be feeling an immense sense of pride at that moment.

There had been, of course, one man missing from the feverish preparations of the last two days: Clark. Chloe had come close to calling him in that first flurry of activity after Lex had left the penthouse; indeed, she had got so far as to start dialling his number. But something had stopped her, and with every hour that passed the invisible barrier that prevented her from making the call had grown larger and larger in her mind, to the point where when Victor had suggested involving Clark, she had almost bitten his head off. Why couldn't she make the call? She couldn't really answer that question, not even to herself. Partly it had been that last meeting with Clark, when he had tried to persuade her to let go, to move on. The very idea had seemed too painful to her, an impossible abandonment of the memory of the man she loved, that a distance had opened up between her and her old friend, a gap which she did not feel ready to bridge, at least for now. Or perhaps it was something deeper, a realisation on her part that Clark had been right, and that the path she had embarked upon could only lead to more hurt, more pain, and that she wanted to avoid the man who had confronted her with that stark reality.... Whatever the real reason for her decision to exclude Clark from her plans, it was a decision that had been made, and there could be no turning back. There would be time to heal the wounds in her relationship with Clark later – now she needed to focus on the confrontation to come.

Why had Lex invited her to this launch? One thing was for sure – there was more to it than a simple invitation to a member of the press. Lex was up to something, she knew that, but however many times she turned it over in her mind, she could not work out what hidden agenda Lex was seeking to promote. Whatever he was up to, the opportunity to penetrate the heart of Lex's operation was too good to miss. She would learn more of Dr Thomas, whose presence in Rio continued to intrigue Chloe – she was certain he was involved in 33.1, and, more importantly, the events that had led to Oliver's death. And if everything went according to plan, she would learn a whole lot more about Lex's operation, perhaps even enough to achieve what she longed for – the destruction of 33.1 and the Luthor name. Lex might have thought he was in control when he invited her to this event, but he was about to discover he'd made one of the biggest mistakes of his life....

"Watchtower, are you receiving me? Come in Watchtower." Victor's voice sounded loud and clear in the tiny earpiece embedded in her ear.

"Receiving, Cyborg. Are you in position?"

"Affirmative. Aquaman and I are about to penetrate the LuthorCorp perimeter. We should be in position in ten minutes – we'll wait for your signal."

"Understood. Sidekick and I are about two minutes away. Good luck, guys – and take care of yourselves, okay?"

Chloe then tapped the earpiece, bringing the transmission to an end.

"Sidekick?"

Chloe turned to where Jimmy sat alongside her in the passenger seat, his face a mixture of amusement and incredulity.

"Everyone has to have a codename, Jimmy. It was Bart's idea – it somehow kinda fits, don't you think?"

"Yeah, but Sidekick? Really? Couldn't I be ....I dunno.... the flashgun, or something?"

Chloe grinned, briefly enjoying the moment of light relief before once more the tension in her muscles reminded her of the confrontation that lay ahead.

Jimmy smiled too, happy to see his words put a smile on Chloe's face, however fleeting. Sidekick! Maybe it wasn't the greatest codename in the world – he'd always been more interested in Batman than Robin – but it still made his heart beat a little faster. A codename meant he was now more than an outsider let in on the secret of the Justice League – _he was part of the team._ What could be more exciting than that? With every day that passed he went to bed believing that he would wake up and find it was all a dream – that he was still a junior photographer, that the woman he loved was still in the arms of another. But every morning he awoke to find that it was not a dream – his fantasy really was coming true. He was now a part of a secret world of heroes and villains, more exciting than any comic book he'd ever read, a world in which he found himself taking on one of the most powerful men in the city with the help of guys gifted with powers he'd never dreamt existed. And all this whilst slowly, gradually, inexorably, his relationship with Chloe grew. There was still a long way to go before she loved him, he knew that, but with every thrilling hour he spent in her company (and thrilling seemed to be the best word to describe the effect her presence had on him) he could feel the bond between them growing stronger. She still loved Oliver, that much was obvious - but even the strongest memories fade in time. Queen was dead, and was never coming back – it might take months, even years, for her to get over him, but Jimmy was convinced she _would_ get over him – and when she did, _he_ would be waiting.

"We're here."

Chloe's voice snapped Jimmy back to the reality of their impending mission. As he looked through the windshield he could see the imposing LuthorCorp building looming ahead of them, a collection of limos pulled up outside. Lex's launch really was attracting the cream of Metropolis society, the flashing of cameras a measure of the interest being shown by the press in those attending the event.

Chloe pulled up some distance from the entrance to the building. Turning the engine off, she reached across to pick up her handbag before looking at Jimmy.

"Ready?" she asked, the strength of her voice hiding the nerves that now seemed to have gathered in the pit of her stomach.

"Ready."

"Then let's do this."

* * *

Lex stood in front of the mirror mounted on the wall of his office, taking care to position the knot of his tie as close to the center of his collar as possible. Attention to detail was everything, and he was eager to ensure that he looked the part for the performance he was about to give. Metropolis's leading businessmen and politicians awaited him, but on this occasion they did not matter to Lex. They were merely extras, the necessary backdrop to the piece of theater that he, the master director, was about to stage. Most of those present would not even be aware of the true stars of the show, the man he held captive in his dungeon below and the lowly reporter who would feel so uncomfortable as she mingled anonymously with the rich and powerful. Only he would know the truth of what was about to unfold, a fact that filled him with a sense of power and excitement. Everything was going according to plan, and soon, very soon now, he would watch as he unleashed his next torment on the man whose slow destruction was now his overwhelming obsession.

A knock at the door signalled that the performance was about to begin.

"Come in."

Lex turned, to find Akunin entering the room.

"Is she here?" asked Lex, reaching for his jacket.

"She's just arrived. The photographer is with her."

"Good – Olsen could well prove useful in this little drama we're about to stage. And our guest?"

"Queen is in position – Carter is making him comfortable now."

Lex smiled as he thought of what Carter's idea of making Oliver comfortable might mean.

"Well, I think it's time I told Oliver about his starring role, don't you?"

* * *

First of all some apologies. Sorry there was no update last week, and sorry this one is a little short - work and life are a bit crazy at the moment, and I'm struggling to find time to write. Some big events are about to happen in this story, and I want to get them right, rather than rushing it and getting it wrong. I'll try to get an update out next week, but please be patient - in a couple of weeks I should have a lot more time to write, and we'll be back to weekly updates.

Thanks to you all for reading, and especially for reviewing. Please do let me know what you think - even a few words do make all the difference, and I can't tell you how good it is to get feedback! It makes all the hours of writing worthwhile.


	16. Chapter 16: A Front Row Seat

**Chapter Sixteen: A Front Row Seat**

Oliver did not struggle as Carter shackled him to the upright metal frame that was to be the site of his latest trial at the hands of his captors. Days before he would have offered resistance, even though he would have been conscious of the futility of his efforts; there had been a defiance then, a desire to resist any and every assault. But that had gone now, to be replaced by a dumb compliance as Carter's rough hands manacled first his ankles, and then his wrists into place. There was a terrible familiarity to it all now, as once again he was rendered completely immobile by a series of thick leather straps which were methodically pulled tight across his legs and torso, before finally two smaller belts were used to fasten his neck and forehead into place. Only the location was different, a small room which had taken at least ten minutes to reach. He had been blindfolded as he had been taken to this new place of torture, but he knew that he had travelled upwards to reach his destination; that, and that alone, provided Oliver with some sense of curiosity, some feeling that something new and important was about to happen.

They were winning, of course. Oliver knew that, but he felt powerless to stop it. He knew that his will to resist was being steadily eroded, that with every hour that passed, every session at the hands of Dr Thomas, his physical and mental strength were slowly ebbing away. He thought that to recognise it would help him to control it, to fight it – but it made no difference. Exhaustion, physical abuse, the aching sense of hopelessness - all were taking their toll, moving him ever closer to that terrible moment when Lex would finally achieve the ultimate victory this was all designed to achieve. And then there was Akunin, and what she had done to him. The memory of what he had seen on that film, those terrible images with which she had so cruelly taunted him, seemed to haunt his every waking minute. No matter how hard he tried, he could not put from his mind the picture of his body entwined with hers, an image of love which masked a reality of pure evil. She had violated him, taken him, robbed him of his self-respect. He felt dirty, cheapened, as if all he thought he stood for had been dragged through the gutter. And then there was Chloe...Chloe! He loved her more than anything else in the world, but Akunin had desecrated that love, exposed him as a slave to his animal instincts, unable to honour the one pure thing that had sustained him through this nightmare. How could he go on? How could he possibly endure whatever Lex had in store for him? It was all he could do to control the despair and shame that periodically seemed to flood through his body, threatening to overpower him and take him to the precipice of complete collapse.

At last Carter finished his work, stepping away from the frame to which Oliver was now firmly bound. For a few seconds there was silence, before the sound of a door opening somewhere behind Oliver signalled the arrival of visitors. Oliver's body tensed, sensing that whatever lay in store, it was about to begin.

"So, Oliver, I gather you've been keeping my friends busy since my last visit." Lex's voice was unmistakable, and within a couple of seconds he appeared in front of Oliver. A half grin danced on his face as he took in the sight of his adversary once more utterly helpless and at his mercy.

"I do my best." Oliver's reply, spoken softly but clearly, surprised the man who delivered it. It was as if Lex's presence somehow empowered Oliver and gave him new strength, a fresh desire to resist the man who now held his life in his hands.

"You certainly do that, Oliver, you certainly do that. And, as Miss Akunin has told me, your best really is quite something."

Lex's words were laced with a meaning that was not lost on Oliver. He knew! He knew about what Akunin had done to him! Despite himself, Oliver could feel his face redden with the shame he felt so acutely inside. For some reason he thought that Akunin would have kept her humiliation of him a secret from her master, but it was now all too clear that Lex knew every shameful detail.

"That was quite a performance the two of you put on the other night," continued Lex, savouring the moment. "I'm not normally into movies like that, but when Akunin showed me the cinematic evidence of her little tour de force, well, what can I say? I was gripped. I have to admit, Oliver, your reputation as something of a Casanova is entirely merited."

Oliver said nothing, conscious that any reply would simply play into the hands of his adversary. Lex was in his element, playing yet another of his twisted games – all he could do was to offer no sustenance to the taunts of his captor.

"Which brings me to the purpose of my bringing you here tonight," said Lex, clearly warming to his theme. "I've been getting good reports, Oliver – apparently you are learning the virtues of cooperation and obedience to your jailers. I like that – and I want to show my appreciation. Good behaviour deserves a reward, don't you think? So what reward do you think I've prepared for you, eh?"

Oliver said nothing, but simply stared defiantly back at Lex.

"No ideas? Well, I'll give you a clue. Who in all the world would you most like to see at this moment?"

Oliver's brow furrowed slightly. Where was this leading? What did Lex mean? The person he would most like to see at that moment was Chloe, but....

Suddenly fear gripped Oliver like a vice. Chloe! He'd done something to Chloe! Just when he thought his plight could not get any worse, it now seemed as if he was to face his worst nightmare.

"Might it be a certain young reporter who works for the Daily Planet?"

Lex's words confirmed Oliver's fears. He strained at his bonds, a surge of adrenalin giving him a strength he had not felt in days.

"You bastard, Lex! If you've hurt her, I swear, I'll..."

"Oliver, Oliver, relax!" interrupted Lex, enjoying the panic in his former friend's eyes. "Chloe's perfectly safe. In fact, she's about to attend a little function I've organised, in this very building. And what with you two once being love's young dream, well, I thought you might like to see her, just one last time."

Lex then nodded to Akunin, who stood hidden from Oliver. She keyed in a sequence of numbers into a keypad, before nodding an acknowledgement to Lex.

"So, without further delay, let me present the cream of Metropolis society, and Miss Chloe Sullivan!"

With the flourish of a circus ringmaster, Lex stepped to one side as the blackened glass behind him gradually cleared. Oliver could not help but gasp at the sight that now revealed itself: a large meeting room, filled with men and women drinking, laughing and deep in conversation. There must have been several hundred in the room, and as Oliver watched he began to recognise faces, faces of business associates, local political leaders he'd met at charity fundraisers, even a girl he'd briefly dated something like three years before. The elite of Metropolis society was present, all just a few feet from where Oliver lay, a powerless captive.

Suddenly Oliver found himself looking into the eyes of a woman who could only have been standing a foot or so from the glass. For a moment she seemed to stare right through him, and for a split second Oliver thought that she must have seen him, such was the intensity of her gaze. Instinctively he prepared to cry out, but logic stopped him; this was all part of Lex's game, and he knew that the glass that separated him from the world in which he once moved so effortlessly was so impenetrable that he might as well be a thousand miles away.

"She can't see you, but of course you know that," said Lex, confirming what Oliver already knew. "The glass is one way, so that whilst you get the opportunity to see all your old friends from Metropolis society, all they see is an enormous mirror. And before you get any ideas, the glass is quite soundproof, so there's no point in crying for help. So relax! Enjoy your little reward! And let all these faces remind you of everything I've taken from you."

As Lex spoke his final words the playful tone fell away from his voice, to be replaced with something harder, more sadistic. Once more he felt the exhilaration of success as his latest torment came deliciously to fruition. What could be better than to confront Oliver with the reality of the world moving on without him, just feet from where he lay chained and powerless, before once more dispatching him to the tender mercies of Akunin and Thomas in the cage many floors below?

There was, of course, one final element to Lex's latest triumph, the arrival of his leading lady.

"And where is Chloe, I wonder?" he asked, making a show of peering through the glass and across the crowded room. "Can you see her, Oliver? I know she's here – perhaps she's shy, not comfortable in the presence of all this money and power without her handsome billionaire to cling on to. She does have that photographer with her – Olsen, I think his name is. They make quite a cute couple, I have to say – he may not have the Queen charm, but I gather from my sources that he has been so supportive of Chloe since your untimely demise. Quite the rock, I hear – and so obviously seeking to take your place in her bed. And you not yet cold in your grave – now that's ruthlessness I can admire. Maybe I'll offer him a job at LuthorCorp – I've always got space for a young man with a devious streak."

"Shut-up, Lex! Do you hear me? Shut your mouth or so help me I'll...."

"What? Shout more pointless threats at me, Oliver? Are you really reduced to that? I'm only telling you the truth, my friend – the world is moving on without you. Soon you'll just be a fading memory in little Chloe's mind, as she snuggles up close next to her safe, dull photographer. And can you blame her? At least she's stayed faithful to your memory for more than a week, which is more than you have, isn't it?"

Rage surged through Oliver's body at Lex's words, and his eyes burned with fury as once more a wave of adrenalin led him to strain hopelessly against his bonds. Lex looked on impassively, inwardly satisfied that in this encounter, so carefully prepared for and stage-managed, he had once more emerged the victor.

"Well much as I'd love to stay here and talk, I must go and greet my guests. Enjoy the show, and don't worry – I'll make sure that Chloe comes over and says hello." With that Lex patted Oliver on the chest, before walking past him on his way to the door, accompanied by Carter.

"Oh, and in case you get lonely, Miss Akunin here will keep you company. I'm sure you two have got so much to talk about."

Lex's final words caused a shiver to run down Oliver's spine. As he heard the door close somewhere behind him he suddenly became aware of the silent presence of Akunin, watching him from somewhere out of view.

"So, alone again, Oliver." The voice, clear and seductive, filled the room. "What shall we do to pass the time, I wonder?"

* * *

So, as you can see, we're building up to some pretty intense chapters. Next update will be a couple of days later than normal, but you won't have to wait a full two weeks for the next installment.

I hope you're all enjoying this. I've got so many ideas for what's to come in the second half of this story - please stick with it, because I think you'll enjoy some of the twists and turns that lie ahead. You'd make my day if you found time to write a little review - it is so important to get feedback, or else you feel as if no-one is there!


	17. Chapter 17: Exquisite Agony

**Chapter Seventeen: Exquisite Agony**

"So, alone again, Oliver. What shall we do to pass the time, I wonder?"

Akunin's words sent a chill down Oliver's spine. He had not seen the woman who had so cruelly robbed him of his sense of self-worth since that terrible encounter in the cell. He had feared this moment, dreaded it even; wanting to appear strong, unbowed, but knowing in his heart that, when confronted by her, he would be unable to conceal his true emotions from her penetrating stare.

"Lex does enjoy his little games, doesn't he? And this one is so theatrical – he has such a sense of the dramatic."

As Akunin spoke Oliver heard the familiar sound of her heels making contact with the hard surface of the floor, somewhere to his rear. Her steps were slow, deliberate; utterly in control of the situation, she seemed in no hurry to confront her prey. Beads of perspiration started to form on Oliver's brow as he listened to her moving around behind him, his muscles tensing in expectation of the moment when at last she would choose to appear before him. It was all calculated to unnerve him, but the rational part of his brain was unable to quell the rising sense of panic that was welling up inside him. And all the time the leaders of Metropolis society talked, drank and laughed just feet from where he lay, oblivious to the ordeal of the man who once would have been the center of such an event on the society calendar.

At last the footsteps stopped. For what seemed like an eternity there was silence in the room, Oliver straining to listen for some clue as to what might happen next; all he heard was the sound of his own laboured breathing.

"Have you missed me, Oliver?"

Akunin's voice, almost a whisper, seemed to emanate from somewhere just inches from Oliver's right ear, causing the young man to start in surprise.

"Because I've missed you."

Oliver suddenly became aware of Akunin's touch, her hand sliding across the wide expanse of his chest and lingering over the curves of his taut pectoral muscles.

"Oliver, you seem so tense! Why is that, I wonder? Surely the mighty Green Arrow isn't afraid – or is he?"

And then, at last, she appeared in front of him, her mouth twisted into the same smile that he had seen when she had forced him to watch the film down in the cell. It was a smile of pure evil, the smile of a woman who took pleasure only in the destruction of others – and now, as both of them knew, she was determined to savour her greatest triumph.

Oliver scowled at his tormentor, hoping that his anger would mask the fear that gnawed away inside him. Akunin's hand slowly made its way up from his chest and along the side of his neck and face, before finally it arrived at the top of his head, where it gently began to toy with his hair in a gesture of sickening intimacy.

"Ahh, Oliver, trying to be so brave! Putting on a show for your beloved Chloe, is that it? Well she can't see you – no one can. It's just you and me, all alone – and you can't hide the truth from me, Oliver - not now. I'm inside your head, remember – _I own you_. And I can see it in your eyes, the fear that betrays you, that betrays your weakness, _your shame._ Because that's what you feel, isn't it? Shame – shame that when all this leather is stripped away you are nothing more than flesh and blood, a slave to your instincts, no different to all those men out there who you once called your friends."

With her last words Akunin glanced briefly at the mass of people that continued to throng just feet from where she now stood, before she turned once more towards Oliver, stepping in close so that her face came to within inches of Oliver's. Unable to turn away, her features seemed to fill his field of vision, just as she had so often done in his nightmares over the previous two days. Transfixed and powerless, he could only watch as she studied him with what felt like unparalleled intensity, her eyes searching, probing, feasting on his helplessness.

"Of course there is one way that you are different from all those people out there, Oliver," she continued, her voice quiet, but suffused with menace. She then paused, enjoying the sense of expectation that her words had created as she moved even closer to her victim, almost smothering him as her body pressed against his. "They are all free, Oliver, free to live their lives, free to make choices, free to hope. Whereas you – you have no hope, do you? All you have is humiliation of defeat, and the certainty that, sooner or later, Lex will place a gun against this pretty little head of yours and blow your brains out. How does that feel, I wonder – to have had so much, and to end like this?"

Oliver did not reply, trying to curb the wave of nausea that Akunin's presence had stirred within him.

"But don't worry, Oliver. I'm here – I'll always be here. And before this game is over, I will take you again – that I promise you. It may be once, it may be a dozen times, but I will have you, Oliver Queen – and every time I take you the shame you feel will burn inside you just as strongly as it did the first time." And with that, almost as if she was overcome by the power of her own words, Akunin pressed her lips forcefully against those of her prey. Unable to turn away, Oliver resisted her assault in the only way he could, clamping his mouth with every ounce of strength the muscles in his jaw could muster. For what seemed like an eternity her loveless kiss continued, Akunin forcing her body ever more firmly against his as she sought once more to assert her dominance over her captive. He could sense her exhilaration, her iron control momentarily yielding to the aphrodisiac effects of her own power, combined with his apparent weakness.

At last she released her grip, retreating back a couple of steps as she sought to catch her breath and restore her composure. Once again Oliver could see clearly the world he had left behind displayed before him, the men and women of Metropolis unwittingly performing their parts in Lex's carefully choreographed drama. As he breathed deeply to fill his lungs with air his eyes wandered across the heads of those who filled the room. So many faces, some familiar, some less so.....It all seemed so incredible, so bizarre, so terrible, this situation in which he now found himself, to be at the mercy of a woman whose evil was boundless whilst the life he had once known continued to play out just a couple of feet away. How much more of this could he take? How long could he hold out against the psychopath whose control over him appeared to be so absolute? Despair engulfed him, and despite himself he could feel tears of anguish welling up within him.

And then he saw her.

At first it was just a glimpse, so fleeting that for a split second he thought that his mind was playing tricks on him. But this was no illusion; the figure who now made her way towards him, the crowd parting to allow her to appear ever more clearly, was - beautifully, tragically, unbearably - real.

Chloe!

Oliver gasped at the sight of the woman who had given him a taste of the true meaning of love. His heart pounded in his chest with such intensity it was as if it was about to burst; a flood of emotions and memories, suppressed and controlled during the long days of his imprisonment, suddenly filled his mind. She looked so beautiful! Even more beautiful than he remembered her from those few times they had shared together as lovers, unburdened by the cares of the world that they had both chosen to inhabit. As she came ever closer he could not take his eyes from her face, transfixed by what seemed like a vision into a past of happiness that had now been callously snatched away from him. She looked a little older, a little more care-worn; for a moment he felt a flash of anger as he thought of the pain that she was going through, mourning his loss. But the anger passed as quickly as it appeared – how could he waste time on anger, when she still appeared to him to be the purest, most beautiful creature on the planet?

At last she came to a halt just on the other side of the glass, Lex having skilfully steered her to a position where Oliver's view would be uninterrupted by any of the extras who still thronged his stage. She was talking to Lex, her lips moving to form words that he could not hear. Not that it mattered, as Oliver was not thinking about Lex; indeed, he was barely aware of Lex's presence, or that of Jimmy, standing close to Chloe's side. He only had eyes for his beloved Chloe, standing just feet away from him on the other side of that accursed glass. He was overwhelmed by a need to reach out to her, to touch her, take her in his arms, run his hands through her sweet smelling hair and kiss her perfect lips. The rational part of his brain told him that it was all futile, another of Lex's tortures. He knew that soon she would be spirited away, swallowed up by the crowd as swiftly as she had appeared – and that then, just as the director of this charade had planned, he would be plunged into an abyss of desolation unlike anything he had experienced to date. But rationality did not have the power to prevent him falling into the trap that Lex had so carefully prepared. His love for Chloe was too strong, and that strength would now be used to crush him; nothing he could do could prevent the terrible sense of loss that would accompany her departure in, what? Seconds? Minutes? How long would Lex tantalise him with the one person who he needed more than anyone else in the world?

And then it happened, a moment that Oliver knew would remain with him for as long as he lived. Chloe turned away from Lex, and suddenly her eyes were staring straight into his. She was only feet away, and Oliver could see her eyes as clearly as he had seen them when he had first held her in his arms and kissed her. It was a moment of exquisite agony, two lovers sharing what was likely to be their final sight of each other, but one blind and senseless of the significance of where she now looked.

How he wanted her to see him! Every fibre of his being cried out in a silent plea to those sad, unseeing eyes that now stared into his. _Why can't she see me! Why can't this glass crack into a thousand pieces so that we can be together once more! Please, God, let her see me! I'm begging you, please!_

"Chloe!" he whispered involuntarily, unable any longer to contain the emotions that swirled within him.

"She can't hear you, Oliver." Akunin's voice cut through the silence of the room. Such had been the impact of Chloe's appearance that Oliver had almost forgotten that his tormentor still stood at his side, observing his every move, his every reaction. Now she chose to reassert her presence, stepping in front of Oliver and severing the bond that for a few brief moments he had shared with his lover.

"Look at you, Oliver," she sneered, her cruel smile replacing the beauty of Chloe's sad eyes. "Still holding a torch for your pretty little reporter, even after all that's happened. You betrayed her, Oliver, have you forgotten that? That pure love you hold so dear is now tainted by the memory of what we did together, and nothing you can do can change that. She deserves better than you, and you know that, don't you? Lex is right – that photographer is just waiting for his moment to leap into her bed, and why not? They look good together – two dull little people, destined to live dull little lives. They're moving on, Oliver – the world is moving on. Don't believe me? Then let's have a listen to how Metropolis is coping without the great Oliver Queen."

And with that she turned and stepped across to the side of the glass screen. Oliver did not watch as she punched a sequence of numbers into a keypad; his eyes were fixed once more on Chloe, who to his relief still stood close to the glass. Her lips were moving, and suddenly his senses were assaulted with another surprise, simultaneously beautiful and suffused with pain.

He could hear her voice.

* * *

"If you stand here you should get a clear view of the presentation."

Lex's voice was calm and assured as he manoeuvred Chloe and Jimmy into position in front of the large mirror. He was in his element, enjoying his role as director of a drama in which the leading lady had no idea of the role that she was playing. He glanced only briefly at the glass, not wishing to draw his guests' attention to what appeared to be nothing more than a standard piece of office decor. Only he knew what it concealed, the powerlessness of his captive strapped down and at the mercy of Akunin just a few feet away. He could only imagine what must be going through Oliver's mind at this moment. Desperation, excitement, hope, fear – these and so many more emotions would be filling the mind of his adversary as he fell inevitably into the trap he had set. For a few minutes he would allow Oliver to look once more on the woman who had changed his life, to wonder what might have been, before once more he would dispatch him into the hell of captivity, the pain of his failure all the more raw for having glimpsed a world that he, Lex Luthor, had taken from him.

"I'm glad that you and your friend here were able to come – the presentation you are about to see should put all your concerns about the work of Dr Thomas to rest," he continued. "And I appreciate it must be hard – to come to an event like this without Oliver. The two of you looked so good together when you attended that fundraiser a few weeks ago. Such a tragedy – and I mean that, Chloe, whatever you might think."

"When does the presentation start?" asked Chloe, trying to move away from the subject of Oliver. To hear Lex even mention his name seemed to cause her almost physical pain. She knew that he was behind his death, and to have to maintain this charade was sometimes almost too much to bear. But she knew that she had to stay focused, to keep calm – in a few minutes it would be time to turn the tables on Lex, and she needed to keep it together until then.

"Very soon now. There will be a short film outlining Dr Thomas's research, and then he and I will take questions." Lex paused, eying his guest carefully. She appeared nervous – more nervous than normal? It was to be expected, he supposed – without Oliver at her side she was always going to be out of her depth at an event such as this, mixing with people who inhabited a different world to the parochial little existence that she enjoyed. He knew that she was committed to bringing him down, to honoring the memory of the man she loved, but it did not concern him – at that moment he felt omnipotent, and what, after all, could she do?

"I admire your bravery, Chloe – getting on with life after your loss. Not easy, I know – but your friend here seems to be giving you all the support you need. You're being a great support to Chloe, Mr Olsen – I can see that. Oliver would have been glad to see Chloe being looked after so well."

Jimmy shuffled uncomfortably, not used to being addressed directly by Lex. He looked across at Chloe, and then back at Lex.

"I do what I can," he replied, trying to sound stronger than he actually felt.

"I'm sure you do, Mr Olsen. In fact, I'm sure there's _nothing_ you wouldn't do to take care of Chloe here, now is there?"

Lex had chosen his words carefully, and they did not fail to hit their target. Jimmy blushed despite himself as Lex smiled knowingly at him, enjoying his discomfort. Only Chloe seemed oblivious to the significance of what had just occurred, her mind filled with what she knew was about to happen.

"Well, I must go and check that everything is ready. Enjoy the presentation, and, as I've said, I'm so glad you've been able to make it – you being here has really made my evening."

With that Lex strode away, leaving Chloe and Jimmy alone by the mirror. For a moment neither said a word, each watching Lex until he disappeared into the crowd. When at last he was out of sight the two of them looked at each other, before starting to move towards an exit that they had identified during their mission planning over the previous forty-eight hours.

In less than a minute they were in position. Chloe looked at her watch, before glancing around the room to see whether they had been observed. All appeared to be perfectly normal, the guests deep in conversation and no obvious sign of a LuthorCorp security presence. The coast was clear – it was time for the mission to begin.

Chloe reached to her ear in readiness to communicate to the guys who by now were awaiting her signal. And then she hesitated, her eyes coming to rest on the large mirror that she had stood next to just a few moments before. She stared at it for five or six seconds, unable to tear her eyes from the perfectly polished glass that captured so clearly the events that were unfolding in front of it. She did not know why, but all of a sudden she felt as if that mirror meant something, that Lex had taken her there for a reason, a reason that was far more important than ensuring she got a good view of the presentation....

"Chloe?"

Jimmy's voice, anxious and tense, brought her back to reality. She looked at him, nodding her head before touching the hidden earpiece.

"Cyborg, this is Watchtower. Mission is go."

* * *

This chapter was really difficult to write for some reason - writer's block creeping up on me. As you can probably guess, the next few chapters will be heavy on action and drama - and maybe a few shocks too!

Just got to say I loved "Hex" this week - some Chlollie moments on screen, and the Watchtower scene at the end was great! I hope that both Chloe and Ollie make it to Season Nine, although at the moment it doesn't look good for Chloe.

Thanks so much to you wonderful reviewers - you continue to make this all worthwhile, especially in a week like this when writing hasn't been easy. Please do keep letting me know what you think - without you I'm not sure I'd keep going with this.


	18. Chapter 18: Striking Back

**Chapter Eighteen: Striking Back**

"You look nervous, my friend."

Lex eyed Dr Thomas with a degree of amusement. His discomfort was all too obvious; beads of sweat could be seen on his brow, and the color appeared to have drained from his cheeks as he looked out at the crowd he was about address. He was a man made for the laboratory, not for an event like this, but his appearance in Lex's little drama was essential. He might be a reluctant performer, but perform he must.

"This isn't for me, Lex – you know that. I hate crowds, and the idea of answering questions about my work is my idea of hell."

"Relax, doctor – you'll be fine. After they've seen the film on your work on memory manipulation as a therapy for trauma you'll have them eating out of the palm of your hand. Scientists always have an air of credibility about them – if you get a difficult question, blind them with some chemical formula, or better still, pass them over to me. So calm down – it'll soon all be over, and you can return to working on our mutual friend down below."

Thomas looked at Lex warily.

"Mr Luthor, I'm glad for the opportunity you've given me to test some of my methods on our guest, but I have to warn you that my work is being compromised by the activities of Miss Akunin."

"Compromised? How so?"

"My treatments are carefully designed to break down a patient's resistance, but they are not designed to work alongside other...how can I put this? Other, more unorthodox methods of torture."

Lex glanced around to make sure no one was in earshot. At public events such as this he was always on his guard, careful to talk in euphemisms – the mention of the "t" word seemed profoundly out of place. Satisfied that Thomas's indiscretion had not been overheard, he turned back to his employee.

"I sympathise, doctor, I really do. But Miss Akunin has full authority to treat our guest in whatever way she sees fit, and I am not prepared to overrule her. Her methods are unorthodox, I grant you – but she gets results. Now, shall we begin?"

Lex then turned towards the small stage that had been erected next to the large screen which was to soon act as the centrepiece of his presentation. As he walked towards it, rehearsing the introduction to the film in his head, he fixed his features into the mask he now wanted to present to Metropolis, and indeed the country – Lex Luthor, businessman, entrepreneur, benefactor to medical research.

He lightly made his way up the three or four steps which led to the stage, before taking his place in front of the microphone. Pausing for a moment to take in the sight of so many of Metropolis's business and political leaders gathered to hear what he had to say, he opened his mouth to call the floor to order.

Then the lights went out.

For a moment Lex was caught off guard. In the darkness there was a split second of silence, the crowd uncertain as to how to react to this unexpected turn of events, before there was the sound of three hundred concerned voices, all asking each other the same question: what was going on? Lex didn't know the answer to that question, and his brow furrowed in anger at this unwelcome development. However, he was not put off his stride for long, and, raising his voice so that he could be heard above the whispers and murmurs of the crowd, he sought to reassure his guests.

"Don't panic, ladies and gentlemen – nothing to be concerned about. Just a temporary power failure, which my people will put right in a minute or two. In the meantime stay calm, and if you can find a waiter, please enjoy another glass of champagne!"

There was a ripple of appreciation at Lex's words, and in the dull glow of the emergency lights Lex could see his guests resuming their conversations. The crowd pacified, Lex now reached for his mobile phone.

"Carter? Where are you?......Good. Is the power out all over the building? .......It is? Get down to building control and get this place operational again now, do you hear? If I don't have power in this room in three minutes then I shall hold you personally responsible."

Lex snapped his phone shut. He hated the unexpected, and the power failure was spoiling an evening which so far had gone exactly according to plan. Suddenly he felt uneasy – was this just a power failure, or was it something more than that? He glanced across at the window, eager to reassure himself that Chloe and Jimmy were still where he had left them. To his frustration, his line of sight was obscured, and so he started to move so that he could get a clearer view.

"Lex! I'm guessing this wasn't in the script, now was it?"

Lex turned, to find himself face to face with Byron Handsworth, one of LuthorCorp's key investors.

"Byron! Good to see you. Just a temporary hitch – nothing serious, I assure you."

"Sure, sure. Now whilst we're waiting for the lights to come back on, there's someone I'd like you to meet. They say she's too young for me, but I tell you Lex, she's made me feel twenty years younger."

Inwardly Lex sighed as he realised he was trapped; Handsworth was too important a man to brush off, however irritating he might be. He had to be indulged, and so Lex allowed himself to be steered away from the mirror, towards the other side of the room. As Handsworth continued Lex reassured himself that his fears were almost certainly misplaced, and that when power was restored the night would continue, exactly as he had planned it.

Had he succeeded in getting a clear view of the mirror, however, he would have immediately realised that his confidence was misplaced. There was an empty space where Jimmy and Chloe had once stood. In fact, they were now no longer in the main room at all, but had as planned taken the opportunity of the power failure to slip unseen through the side exit and into the empty corridor beyond.

Having made their escape, the two now stood motionless, straining to detect any sound that might indicate their departure had been observed, and that they were being pursued. There was none, only the dull sound of the voices of Lex's guests wondering about what was going on on the other side of the thick door. Both could feel their hearts thumping hard in their chests, the adrenalin kicking in as an awareness of the danger that they now faced dawned on them. They knew what they had to do, their mission objectives gone over time and again over the preceding forty-eight hours, but equally they were aware of the risks; Lex was capable of anything, and capture could have untold consequences.

Chloe looked across at Jimmy, his worried face caught in the glow of the emergency lights.

"Are you okay?" she whispered, trying to force a note of reassurance into a voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, attempting a half smile.

"You know what to do, yeah? It should take me no more than ten minutes, and then we're out of here. If there's a problem, you know the signal. And Jimmy..."

"Yeah?"

"Don't get caught."

Chloe then turned and made her way off down the corridor, disappearing into the gloom. As she made her way towards her destination a pang of doubt suddenly hit her – had she been right to bring Jimmy on this mission? He was so inexperienced, perhaps it would have been better to have left him back at the penthouse. She tried to reassure herself that he would be fine, and that his role in securing their exit didn't require a wealth of operational experience. But the doubts remained, nagging away at the back of her head....

At least the guys were with her, and that brought a smile to her face. Lex was about to have his evening hijacked in a way he could never have expected, courtesy of the Justice League.

* * *

Cyborg felt strangely calm as he worked on the control panel in front of him. He should have felt more anxious; he was in the middle of a mission, deep in the heart of the LuthorCorp building and with the possibility of discovery and capture all too real. But somehow this didn't affect him; he was at work, doing something that mattered, and that above all else seemed to offer his mind some relief from the grief and turmoil of the last week. As he looked down at the two LuthorCorp employees lying bound, gagged and unconscious on the floor his mind went back to missions of the past, missions he'd shared with Oliver. How he would have loved this! Striking at Lex in his lair, and hitting him in a manner so public it would be guaranteed to humiliate him. As a mission it would undoubtedly have won the Queen seal of approval, and, even if the Green Arrow could not be there to enjoy it, Cyborg felt that he was with them, supporting them, offering the same inspiration and motivation that he had always offered as he had crafted them together as a team.

"Back away from the panel and put your hands up!"

The command, urgent and hard, came from behind him. Slowly Cyborg turned, to find himself face to face with a man who was pointing a gun straight at him.

It was Carter.

"I said, put your hands in the air, freak!"

Cyborg complied, his face remaining impassive.

"You've made one big mistake coming here, boy. Lex doesn't like having his party crashed, especially by a terrorist like you."

"I think you're the one who's made a mistake." Cyborg's voice was calm, unsettling his would-be captor.

"Yeah? I don't think so, boy."

"You know my friend there is right – and he doesn't like being interrupted when he's working."

Carter froze. The voice was not that of his prisoner, but instead came from somewhere behind him – somewhere close.....

Suddenly he spun round, desperately trying to retain control of the situation and take out his second, and as yet unseen, adversary. It was a vain attempt; a bone crunching blow to his jaw sent him flying through the air, before he eventually crashed into the wall and slid to the floor, his head swimming. Disorientated, he was unable to resist as he felt himself being flipped over on to his stomach before his hands and feet were bound together.

"Nice work – good to see you haven't lost your touch," said Cyborg, watching as Aquaman tied up Carter.

"Hey, always got your back man, you know that," replied AC, grinning back at his friend. "Besides, taking out a few of Lex's goons – best workout you can get!"

As Cyborg returned to his work at the control panel, Aquaman flipped his new captive onto his back. Carter had now recovered from the attack, and scowled at AC as he struggled against his bonds.

"Hey, Cyborg, I don't think this one appreciates our style of welcome," said AC, catching sight of Carter's name badge. "No wonder! He's Lex's goon-in-chief. That's quite some position to hold, Mr Carter – how many guys did you have to kill to get it?"

"If you know what's good for you you'll shut your face, waterboy," growled Carter, his eyes flaming with rage.

"Now don't be a sore loser, man! It's not our fault you came down here alone – you guys need to go on some sort of training course. Have you tried finding something online? "How to be a better goon," or something. At the moment you guys are just too easy – there's no fun in it anymore."

"That's right, freak – you laugh. Laugh all you like. But one day soon it's going to be me doing the laughing, as I beat the shit out of you before I put a bullet through your skull. You won't be laughing then, blondie – that I promise you."

For a split second both men stared at each other, the smile slipping from AC's face at the viciousness of Carter's words. Cyborg broke the silence.

"Aquaman, it's time."

AC glanced at his friend, and then back at Carter.

"Sorry, but duty calls." And with that he punched Carter in the side of the head, knocking him out cold.

"I don't think he liked me," said AC, getting to his feet.

"Maybe it's that smell of fish you carry around with you."

"You know something, Cyborg? You are one funny guy!"

The two guys smiled at one another. It felt good to be working together once more, particularly as at last they seemed to have the upper hand over Lex.

"Impulse, do you read me? Impulse, come in please."

"Reading you loud and clear, Cyborg." Bart's voice came through strongly over the communication system. "And what took you so long? Fish face get sidetracked by a can of tuna or what?"

AC shook his head in exasperation.

"We ran into a little trouble – nothing we couldn't handle. Are you ready?"

"Am I ready? I can't wait to gatecrash Lex's little party – been practising since you guys left. Just say the word, man – I'm ready."

Suddenly the sound of a cell phone ringing filled the control room. AC and Cyborg looked at each other, before looking around to find the source of the sound. It wasn't long before they found it; in seconds AC was pulling the cell from the jacket pocket of the unconscious Carter.

"Looks like Lex is checking up on his favourite goon," he said, examining the display. "How about I let our favourite scumbag in on our game? Seems only fair on the guy to give him a bit of warning."

"Be my guest."

* * *

Lex walked towards the stage, his cell pressed against his ear. He'd only been with Handsworth for five minutes, but it had seemed like an hour; with every second that passed he was conscious of the growing expressions of concern that were emanating from his guests. The evening, which had started so well, felt as if it was slipping away from him, and he was eager for news from Carter.

At last there was the sound of someone picking up at the other end of the line.

"Carter? What's going on? I want the power restored now, do you understand?"

"Sorry, Lex, but Carter can't talk just now."

Lex stopped in his tracks, brought to a standstill by the unexpected sound of a young man's voice at the other end of the line.

"Who is this?"

"Who I am doesn't matter, Lex – it's who _we _are. We are the Justice League, and we've come to spoil your party."

"Curry, is that you? If you...."

"Enjoy the show, Lex – I'm sure your guests will."

The line went dead.

Lex did not have time to take in this latest revelation when suddenly the lights came on. There was the sound of a few hundred voices expressing relief, before another voice – young, brash, self-confident – cut across them all. Lex whirled around towards the stage, to come face to face with the image of Bart Allen, projected onto the large screen which Lex had had erected for his presentation.

"Hey Metropolis! How's it going, dudes?" Bart's enormous face grinned out from the screen. "Let me introduce myself – my name is Impulse, and me and my buddies thought we'd crash our old pal Lex's little party here. You really should have invited us, Lex – now we're just gonna have to tell all these good people about just what a low life piece of trash you really are. You see, people, you think Lex is one of the good guys – pillar of the establishment, supporter of charity, and all that stuff. In fact he's a criminal, and if you haven't got anywhere else to go for the next few minutes, I'll tell you everything you need to know about old baldy there."

Bart's voice continued, but Lex didn't hear. Seething with rage, he took his cell and rapidly dialled a number.

"Akunin? Are you seeing this? Get down to the control room and deal with it......No, they've taken Carter out. Make our guest secure and gather the men you need. I don't care how you do it, but I want them taken – dead or alive, do you understand?"

Lex snapped his cell shut, and then looked across at the mirror, his face a picture of rage.

He would not be made a fool of – the Justice League had crossed him for the last time.

* * *

Akunin replaced her cell in her jacket pocket, before pausing for a moment to observe the scene that was playing out before her on the other side of the glass. Every head was turned in the direction of the screen, where Bart's face could be seen as he continued to outline the truth about Lex's crimes. None of his words could be heard, Akunin having cut the sound as soon as Allen had appeared. As she looked across the heads of the audience, utterly absorbed by the dramatic turn of events, her eyes fell on Lex, glaring directly at her. She knew what she had to do – Lex's orders gave her no choice. But she felt uneasy, unwilling to leave her prisoner alone with the Justice League loose in the building. Was this part of some rescue bid? The thought momentarily crossed her mind, only to be quickly dismissed; to the League the Green Arrow was dead, so how could this be a rescue mission? Oliver's friends were many floors below, a long way from their former leader's place of captivity, and so the risk of his being found was minimal.

Having put her doubts to rest, she nonetheless decided to take no chances. Walking around the frame on which Oliver was tied, she picked up a roll of duct tape from a nearby table.

"I'm going to have to leave you for a while, Oliver," she said, stepping behind the frame whilst pulling a strip of tape from the roll. "I hope you understand, but I can't have you calling out whilst I'm away, now can I?"

With that she reached over Oliver's head and sealed the strip of tape over his mouth, pulling back firmly before wrapping the ends tightly around the back of the frame.

Satisfied that her captive was silenced, she made her way towards the door, before looking back one final time.

"Just think, Oliver – in a few minutes I might have captured a few more members of your little gang. What will I do with them, I wonder? I'm sure I'll think of something."

Akunin's chilling warning was still ringing in Oliver's ears as he heard the door close behind him. He was alone at last, but in the stillness of the room a torrent of contradictory emotions swirled within him. He felt elated to see Bart's face, to realise that the guys were still out there, still working to destroy Lex and all he stood for. His heart burst with pride to see his young protégé humiliate Lex in front of the great and the good of Metropolis – he may not have been able to hear the words, but he could see the impact he was having on the audience. The Justice League was alive and striking back – that fact alone seemed to give him a strength that he had been lacking these last few days. However, his joy was tempered with fear, a fear that Akunin would be able to make good on her threat. How would he cope if they were taken? Could he bear to let them see him in this state, so close to being broken?

Fear, elation, joy, anxiety, these and so many other emotions filled his head. But there was one emotion that seemed to dominate over all the others, pushing them to the side and demanding attention in a way it had not done for many days.

Hope.

Oliver Queen had hope.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed that - it was a lot easier to write than the last chapter. I think it works - I always worry about writing a sequence of short scenes, but I think these contain enough detail to make them seem real.

The next chapter is going to be BIG - a pivotal moment in this story, which I hope is going to work.

If you're interested, I've opened a livejournal as another home for my stories (link in my profile). Only this one there at the moment, but the others will go up eventually. It is not very exciting to look at (I'm not great with pictures and banners), but if livejournal is your thing you might want to check it out. I'll still keep posting here, of course.

If you do have time to let me know what you think by posting a review it would make my day. I want to say a massive thank-you to all who do review; the number of you doing so has dropped away dramatically, which is a bit depressing if Im honest.


	19. Chapter 19: A Fateful Decision

**Chapter Nineteen: A Fateful Decision**

Jimmy almost leapt out of his skin when suddenly the main lights came back on in the corridor. The glow of the emergency lights had somehow been reassuring, shrouding his illicit presence in a comforting gloom, but now the harsh glare of the lights above him left him feeling more exposed than ever. His one solace was that the resumption of power was entirely expected, part of the plan that he had seen shaped by Chloe and the guys over the previous forty-eight hours. The diversion was all going like clockwork, and he knew that on the other side of the door by which he now stood the audience would soon be enthralled by Bart's description of the real Lex Luthor. He could only imagine the anger which the famously controlled host must now be feeling, his showpiece event hijacked and used by his enemies as a vehicle for the assassination of his own character. But he was certain of one thing – Lex would not take this lying down. He would want revenge, revenge against all those who had been involved – _revenge against him_. The thought made him shudder. What had he got himself into? The last week had been exciting, exhilarating, but now, as he stood in that lonely corridor, the reality of the life he had stumbled into, with all its risks and dangers, was all too clear.

Anxiously he looked down the empty corridor in the direction where Chloe had disappeared minutes earlier, hoping to see her making her way back towards him. All he saw was the same empty passage he had looked down at least sixty times, only now illuminated in the warm glow of the main lights.

_Come on, Chloe! Come on!_

He willed her to appear, desperate for this unbearable waiting to come to an end. How long did it take to search an office? He wanted this to be over, to get out of the building and return to the safety of the penthouse. He could feel the sweat running down the back of his neck, his shirt clinging to him and soaked with his own perspiration. Perhaps he wasn't cut out for missions in the field, after all – _next time leave it to the professionals,_ he said to himself.

A sound!

Jimmy's entire body tensed, his nerves screaming a silent alarm.

Someone was coming!

Within a split second he had looked up and down the corridor, but could see nothing. What was going on? The noise was close, the sound of heels on a polished floor – surely he should be able to see its source? Confused for a moment, he stood frozen to the spot, uncertain as to what to do next. Then the terrible truth dawned on him – the footsteps were getting closer, and they were coming from behind him...

He whirled around, to find himself staring at a door marked "STOREROOM." How could the footsteps be coming from inside a storeroom? It didn't seem to make any sense, but Jimmy didn't have time to think about it. Suddenly the footsteps stopped. Jimmy knew that whoever was the source of the footsteps, they were now just the other side of the door. Still paralysed by his own fear, to his horror he heard a sequence of electronic sounds, like numbers being punched into a keypad, a keypad like the one located just to the side of the storeroom door....

Faced with the prospect of discovery, at last Jimmy's survival instincts kicked in. Like a hunted animal, he looked about him for a place to hide. There was nothing. What to do? There wasn't time to make it back to the door to the main room. The door began to open, and desperately Jimmy flung himself against the wall. He started to rehearse his excuses, to pray that they would believe him when he said he'd wandered here by accident....

The door opened into the corridor, swinging outwards so that initially the door shielded Jimmy from the person who must surely discover him. He tensed as the door began to swing back, revealing the figure of a woman, her back to Jimmy. The young man tensed, ready for exposure, but instead the woman moved off at a brisk pace down the corridor, never once turning back.

Hardly daring to believe his luck, Jimmy stood motionless against the wall for a good ten seconds after the woman had disappeared from view. How was that possible? How could she not have seen him? He offered up a silent prayer of thanks, not simply for his remarkable stroke of good fortune, but also for automatic doors; had the woman needed to turn to close the door, he would have had no place to hide.

Finally allowing his body to relax a little, Jimmy stepped away from the wall and looked at the door from which the woman had emerged. She hadn't looked like a cleaner, so what was she doing in a storeroom? And why had the sound of her footsteps started faintly, and then got louder and louder, as if she had been walking down a corridor? Jimmy cast his mind back to the plan of the LuthorCorp building that Chloe and the others had pored over as they had prepared for the mission. From what he could remember there was nothing but a large cupboard behind the door, not a large room, let alone a corridor. What did it all mean?

Jimmy's heart quickened as he realised the significance of what he was now looking at. This was no storeroom door – this was a door to somewhere hidden, somewhere deliberately left off the plans for the building. A secret room! The adrenalin pumped through Jimmy's body at the thought of what he had discovered. How Chloe would be pleased! He glowed at the thought of telling her of his discovery, of seeing her face light up with delight. The faithful sidekick would have come good - she would embrace him, kiss him, and he would once again feel the thrill of her touch, her gratitude, perhaps even her love.

What lay behind the door? Curiosity nagged away at him. Wouldn't she be even more impressed if he investigated what lay behind the mysterious door, if he could discover the evidence that would nail Lex Luthor for good? Wouldn't that seal his place in her affections, make her see him as the man he wanted her to see, and not just a trusted friend? He shoved a hand in his pocket, pulling out a tiny electronic device. It was something Cyborg had given him, a key that would enable him to access any locked door in the event of an emergency. He stared at it for a moment, weighing up the risks of the course of action he was about to embark upon. The dangers were all too obvious, and so much greater than those he was currently risking. But the potential rewards, the idea of cementing himself in Chloe's affections once and for all, seemed to banish the fear that had paralysed him just moments before. He would do anything to win her, risk anything, and just now, at that moment, winning her meant exploring what lay behind that door.

His hand trembling slightly, he lightly touched the electronic key against the keypad adjacent to the door. For a moment he thought that the device had failed, but then he heard the sequence of sounds that indicated that the code had been accessed. The lock could be heard moving as the sequence came to an end, and, his heart thumping harder than ever in his chest, Jimmy cautiously opened the door.

What lay beyond confirmed his suspicions. Far from being a storeroom, a long corridor stretched before him. Apart from the bright lights spaced at intervals along the corridor, there was nothing to break the monotony of the blank walls that seemed to stretch down to a dead end some distance away. Logic told him that somewhere there must be another door leading off from the corridor, and so, conscious that he was about to pass the point of no return, he stepped inside, allowing the door to close gently behind him.

The atmosphere was claustrophobic, and the silence of the space he now found himself in added to his sense of unease. Slowly he made his way forward, searching for the exit that he knew must exist. He almost reached the end of the corridor before at last he found what he was looking for; an ordinary door, located to his left.

He paused for a moment, his ears straining to detect any sign of life in the room beyond. There was none, and, having satisfied himself as much as he could that the next phase of his adventure would hold no unpleasant surprises, he reached for the handle of the door. There was no electronic lock to negotiate, no code to break, and as he placed his hand on the handle he half expected – or was that half wanted? – to find that it would be locked. Instead it turned easily in his hand.

Jimmy eased the door open no more than an inch, pausing again to listen for any signs of life. Again there were none, and so slowly he eased the door open further, before stepping inside.

He hadn't quite known what to expect on entering Lex's hidden room. The lair of a supervillain, perhaps, straight out of the comic books he'd read as a kid. What he found was certainly not what he'd expected. His attention was first drawn to the large window which filled the far wall, giving a view out onto the room where Lex was holding his reception. Jimmy could see the guests he'd mixed with minutes before, their heads all turned towards the screen on which Bart's face could be clearly seen. For a second Jimmy was puzzled, trying to place the window in what he could remember of the reception hall. Then came the moment of realisation – this was no ordinary window, but a one way viewing screen, disguised as a mirror to Lex's unsuspecting guests.

Jimmy's eyes were then drawn to the large object that stood between himself and the window, partly obscuring his view of the events unfolding at the reception. It appeared to be a large frame of some sort, a good six feet high and anchored with heavy bolts to the floor. The central spine of the frame was wide, with other struts of varying thickness jutting out from it a variety of angles. As Jimmy examined the frame more closely his heart suddenly missed a beat, for there, protruding slightly above the top of the central strut, was the unmistakable sight of the crown of someone's head.

Someone was there! Jimmy's brain struggled to take in this latest revelation. Whoever it was, they were not moving. As Jimmy continued to stare, he could see thick chains attached at various places on the frame; it was immediately obvious that this hidden figure was a prisoner. But who was he? Why was he here? His heart pumping still faster in his chest, Jimmy began to step forward.

What he found was to render him dumbstruck, for there, shackled to the frame and unable to move, was Oliver.

Oliver Queen! The sight of the young billionaire caused Jimmy's jaw to literally drop. How could this be? Oliver was dead – how could he be here, now, a prisoner of Lex Luthor? The answer could be found in the green leathers that Oliver was wearing, the unmistakable uniform of the Green Arrow. _Oliver Queen is the Green Arrow!_ That revelation alone was enough to leave Jimmy speechless. But in an instant it all made sense – Oliver had assembled the Justice League, so surely it was logical for him to have an alter ego of his own? Chloe had not told him everything, that was clear now, but he cursed himself that had not worked it out for himself so much sooner.

As for Oliver, he could not quite believe what his own eyes were telling him. Day after day of torture and abuse had gradually sapped his will to resist, until desperation and hopelessness had all but extinguished his will to fight on. And yet, here, now, standing before him, was little short of a miracle – a link to a world he thought he had lost forever, and the possibility of salvation. It seemed impossible, incredible, that after all he had endured the possibility of rescue was now within his grip, but it was true – in the unlikely form of Jimmy Olsen.

For what seemed like an eternity the two men simply stared at each other, not quite believing the situation they now found themselves in was quite real. At last Oliver, beginning to recover from the shock that both men shared, grunted into his gag. Jimmy, snapped back to reality by Oliver's muffled cry for help, reached for the tape that was wrapped around Oliver's mouth, pulling it clear.

"Oliver, we all thought you were dead, I mean.... how? How did you get here? When the others' find out..."

"The others – where are they?" Oliver's voice, urgent and assured, stood in marked contrast to Jimmy's tongue-tied delivery. He knew that if he was to make his escape he had to act fast – there would be time to answer Jimmy's questions later.

"The others? They're not here." Jimmy's responses sounded dumb, his brain still adjusting to the reality of the situation. "Shall I go and get them? I could signal them if you like. I just need to..."

"No. Don't signal – Lex may be monitoring transmissions." Oliver's mind was working fast, brought to life by the possibility of escape. "And there's no time to get help. See what you can do with these chains."

Jimmy looked down at the manacles that shackled Oliver's wrists and ankles. The chains were thick, and locked in place with conventional locks – Cyborg's electronic key would be useless here. He looked around for something to use to break Oliver free, but the room was empty, save for a door off to the right. He dashed across to it; secured by an electronic keypad, Cyborg's key quickly enabled him to gain entry. Success was short-lived, however, as when the door opened it revealed nothing but an empty cupboard.

As Jimmy searched for some way to set him free, Oliver's attention was drawn to events on the other side of the glass. Bart's face had disappeared from the screen, and Akunin could be seen making her way towards Lex. As Oliver watched he saw her whisper something in his ear, before the two of them glanced over towards the mirror that concealed him. They then began to walk purposefully towards a side exit.

Oliver immediately understood what he had seen. The diversion was over – and they were coming to check on the status of their "guest."

"I can't find anything. What should I do?" asked Jimmy, pulling uselessly at the chains.

"Keep trying."

For a few seconds Jimmy pulled at the manacles, his face showing the signs of his exertions. Oliver's heart plummeted as he realised that it was hopeless – Jimmy could not get him free.

"It's no good. I can't do it!"

"It's okay, Jimmy, it's okay. Now listen to me, will you? I need you to listen."

Jimmy stopped pulling at the chains and looked at Oliver.

"Tell the others what you've seen. Tell them I'm being held in this building – I'm not sure where, but I think its underground somewhere. They'll know what to do. Can you do this for me, Jimmy? Can you do this?" Oliver's voice was calm, but insistent; he knew that his fate now depended on the hapless figure who stood before him.

Jimmy returned Oliver's intense stare, his own features fixed into a visage of grim resolution.

"Don't worry, Oliver – I won't let you down."

Suddenly there were sounds coming from outside. Someone was coming down the corridor.

"Hide!"

Jimmy looked towards the storeroom door, his only possible place of safety.

"Wait! Gag me – it needs to look like it was when you found me."

Jimmy picked up the discarded strip of duct tape. As he was about to stick it over Oliver's mouth the young man said something that struck Jimmy like a thunderbolt.

"Jimmy, tell Chloe I love her, will you? Promise me you'll tell her."

Jimmy winced inside, hoping that his features did not betray his feelings of awkwardness and frustration at Oliver's words.

"I promise," he said after a moment's hesitation, before silencing Oliver with the tape.

Jimmy only just made it inside the storeroom in time; as the door clicked shut he heard the sound of a number of people entering the room beyond. His pulse racing and struggling to control his breathing, he listened intently to any clues as to what was taking place just a few feet away, all too aware that discovery would mean capture, and probably a bullet through the back of the skull.

"_Did you enjoy that, Oliver? Did you enjoy that little performance your freak friends put on there?" _

Jimmy immediately recognised the voice as that of Lex. But this was not the Lex that Jimmy had encountered earlier in the evening, calm, assured and in control. There was an anger to his voice, a hatred; it was all too clear that the guys had succeeded in their aim of hitting Luthor where it hurt.

"_Did you think they were here to rescue you? Did you? Did you think that you were going to be reunited with that little bitch of yours, and that the two of you were going to live happily ever after? Well let me tell you something, Oliver, nothing's changed, do you hear? Nothing!"_

Jimmy then heard three or four dull sounds, and a muffled cry of pain; Lex's rage was finding physical release, and Oliver was clearly bearing the brunt.

"_They may have got away this time, Oliver, but your little friends have made a big mistake here tonight. I'm not going to rest until I've hunted them down, and then do you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to kill them - slowly, painfully. And you are going to watch, you piece of shit, I'm going to make you watch!"_

Lex's rage had reached fever-pitch, and Jimmy winced to hear the viciousness in his voice. Five or six more blows could be heard, Lex clearly unable to control the anger and hatred he felt towards his victim. At last there was a pause, and a few seconds of silence.

"_Take him back to his cage,"_ said Lex eventually, his voice at last a little calmer. _"And then come and find me in my office – we need to discuss damage limitation after tonight's fiasco."_

There was then the sound of movement, presumably as Lex's guards unshackled Oliver. After about a minute Jimmy could hear something heavy being dragged across the floor. There was the sound of a door opening and closing – and then silence.

Jimmy breathed deeply as he realised that the immediate danger had passed. He sat motionless on the storeroom floor, his brain trying to make sense of all that had happened in the past five minutes or so. Oliver Queen was alive! More than that, he was the Green Arrow! It all seemed so incredible, but then, perhaps no more incredible than all the other things he had learned over the last week or so. And when he told Chloe....well, how overjoyed would she be? How happy would they all be, to learn that the man they thought was dead was in fact very much alive? He could see in his mind's eye their celebrations back at the penthouse. Then they would set about planning Oliver's rescue, a plan that they would craft with meticulous care and precision. Within days Oliver would be free, Lex would be thwarted, and Chloe would be reunited with the man of her dreams.....

And what about him? What about Jimmy Olsen?

In the darkness of the storeroom Jimmy's face fell as he thought about this future that he had mapped out in his head. Now he was important, he mattered, but after Oliver's rescue, what place would there be for Jimmy Olsen? After the return of Oliver Queen, what would be left of his hopes of a future together with Chloe?

What was it Lex had said? Something about Oliver and Chloe living happily ever after? But that was not how it was meant to be, not how _he_ wanted it. _He_ was the one who was going to share his life with Chloe, not Oliver. It was so unfair – after all the progress he'd made in recent days, the closeness he now shared with Chloe, everything he'd worked for was about to be lost, trampled in the dust be the return of the all-conquering Green Arrow. How could he compete? She would forget him, swept away by her handsome hero with the double life. He would once more be just plain old Jimmy Olsen, friend – but nothing more.

_It's not fair. It can't happen – I won't let it happen._

And it was at that moment that a thought appeared in Jimmy's head, a thought as surprising to him as any of the revelations he'd experienced in recent days. For a few moments the thought seemed to sit there in the middle of his brain, as if demanding attention, refusing to slip back into his subconscious. How could such a thought have come to him? He was shocked, ashamed even, that a thought of such selfishness, of such immorality, could spring into his mind. A voice inside his head told him to dismiss it, to dispatch it back to the dark place from which it had sprung, but, try as he might, the thought would not disappear. He could not shake this thought, and with every minute he sat in that storeroom it continued to develop in his head, taking shape and growing in intensity as he worked through all the possible implications, all the possible outcomes of the course of action that now – remarkably, impossibly - he found himself considering.

Why did he have to tell? Why did he have to tell Chloe and the others about Oliver?

To the world Oliver Queen was dead – why shouldn't it stay that way? Lex had him under lock and key, hidden in some secret dungeon – why shouldn't he stay there? He owed nothing to Queen; in the normal run of things the billionaire wouldn't even give someone like him the time of day. Why should he save him, when saving him meant ruining the one chance of happiness that he was ever likely to have? Why should he spend the next ten, twenty, thirty years wondering what might have been, whilst Oliver got the chance to live with the girl of his dreams? After all, he'd probably drop her in a few months in favour of some blonde he'd pick up at a party. He'd break Chloe's heart – people like him always did. She was better off without him, better off getting on with her life. She was already starting to get over him – in a few months she would have moved on completely. And he would be there, to support her, care for her, love her in a way that Queen could never do....

"_Jimmy, tell Chloe I love her, will you? Promise me you'll tell her."_

Jimmy flushed with shame as he thought of Oliver's words, and of the promise that he had made just a few minutes before. How could he even entertain for a second the idea of betraying the young hero? To say nothing would be to condemn Oliver to death – how would he be able to live with himself, how would he be able to carry the burden of that knowledge for the rest of his life? Was his need for Chloe that great?

For what seemed like an eternity Jimmy sat there in the darkness, his mind engulfed by the struggle between his knowledge of what was right, and his desire to do something he knew was wrong. The dilemma he faced seemed so great, he felt almost paralysed by it, but at last he reached the point of decision, the point of no return.

He stood up, and reached for the handle of the door.

* * *

Chloe stood outside the LuthorCorp building, something of an island in the stream of people who were flooding out into the warm night air. She should have felt happy; the guys had evaded capture, and from the snippets of conversations that she could hear from those who were passing her it was going to take Lex's PR machine many days of hard work to rehabilitate the Luthor name after Bart's revelations. Most importantly of all, she had gained access to Lex's office, and, clutched tightly in her hand, was the flash drive which now contained what she hoped would be the evidence she needed to close down Lex's operations for good. Everything had gone according to plan, apart from for one thing....

Jimmy was missing.

When she'd returned to their rendezvous point in the side corridor he'd been nowhere to be seen. She had wanted to search, but the sound of voices had forced her back into the main reception room, still thronged with people. For a minute or so she'd thought he might be among them, having been forced perhaps to seek safety amongst the crowd. However, three of four scans of the room confirmed that he was not among them, and reluctantly she'd been forced to leave the building along with all the other guests, Lex's officials bringing the evening to a premature end.

And so here she was, the minutes ticking by as she continued to search anxiously the faces of those still emerging from the building, hoping that Jimmy would be among them. All sorts of thoughts flashed through her mind about what fate might have befallen him, thoughts which were too awful to contemplate. She cursed herself for bringing him on the mission, for putting him at risk when he had so little operational experience. Oliver would never have been so stupid, and now it looked as if she'd lost not just the man she loved, but also one of her closest friends....

"Jimmy!"

Chloe's relief at the sight of the young photographer was so great that she could not help but call out his name. At the sound of his name he looked towards her, a half smile of recognition appearing on his lips.

"Jimmy, where have you been? When you weren't at the meeting point I was so worried!" Chloe spoke quickly as she took her friend by the arm and started to walk him away from the building as rapidly as possible.

"Some of Lex's men came....I had to hide." The young man sounded shell-shocked, and it was clear to Chloe that the realities of a Justice League mission had been too much for him.

"Well you're safe, and that's what matters," she said, attempting to reassure him by squeezing his arm a little tighter. "The guys got out okay, and I managed to download Lex's personal files, so mission accomplished."

"That's great."

Jimmy's voice sounded odd; flat, preoccupied. Chloe turned and looked at him.

"Jimmy, are you okay? What happened to you in there? Did something happen?"

There was a pause, a slight hesitation, before Jimmy turned his head towards her, a smile reappearing on his face.

"I'm fine, Chloe, just fine. Nothing happened. Nothing at all."

* * *

First of all, a MASSIVE thankyou to all those who took the time to review the last chapter - you blew me away! So great to get some feedback - I was beginning to think people had lost interest. Please keep reviewing - it means so much!

So, what did you think of this chapter? Some of you predicted this twist, I know - I've been building towards this moment throughout the first half of the story. Now we'll see what the consequences of Jimmy's betrayal will be - they are going to be dramatic and filled with angst, I promise!


	20. Chapter 20: No Turning Back

**Chapter Twenty: No Turning Back**

Jimmy sat on a chair close to the elevator in Oliver's apartment, his eyes apparently buried in a magazine. It was late afternoon, and there was an eerie stillness to the penthouse, in marked contrast to the feverish activity of the previous two days. Hours earlier he had witnessed the return of the guys, pumped up after their successful expedition into Lex's lair. There had been a lot of backslapping, a lot of banter; the young men had appeared liberated by their experience, glad to have had the opportunity to strike back at their foe. The celebrations had been short-lived, however; aware of Lex's inevitable thirst for revenge, and the probability that the penthouse would be placed under surveillance, the three members of the Justice League had agreed to split up and lay low for a while, to await instructions from Chloe.

Everything now depended on what Chloe found hidden on Lex's personal files. For Chloe and the guys, this meant discovering the damning evidence that would bring Lex's operation finally to its knees. For Jimmy, there was a very different hope – the hope that she would find nothing about the truth of what Lex had done to Oliver.

As soon as he had got into the car to return to the penthouse he had realised the potentially disastrous mistake he'd made. What if Lex's files contained information about Oliver? What if Chloe and the others discovered the truth – that Oliver was alive, and a prisoner in the LuthorCorp building? A rescue mission would inevitably follow, and then the terrible truth about his deception would be laid bare. Where would that leave him? What would Chloe think of him then? The awful realisation that perhaps he had made the worst decision of his life had loomed large in this thinking as they had driven back to the penthouse, and had stayed with him ever since.

He'd not slept well; in fact, he'd hardly slept at all. Fear gripped his heart – fear of exposure, of humiliation, of the hatred that Chloe would feel towards him if she discovered the truth. And there was guilt, too – guilt that he had snatched away a young man's only chance of rescue. He kept seeing Oliver's face, remembering the look of hope in his eyes. Where was he now? What was he thinking? He would be expecting rescue, expecting to be reunited with his friends in a matter of perhaps only hours. At times these thoughts were almost too much for Jimmy to bear; more than once he awoke from a fitful sleep, his body drenched in sweat. He, Jimmy Olsen, had condemned a man to death – how would be ever be able to live with himself?

And yet live with himself he must – there was no going back. He had made his decision, and as the long hours of the day seemed to pass excruciatingly slowly a new resolution had started to take shape in his mind. The feelings of guilt remained, made worse by the many reminders of Oliver that surrounded him in the penthouse, but he could not change the past. He had to live with what he had done, for good or ill – and he was determined to do anything, _anything, _to keep his future with Chloe a reality. After all, if he did not, if he crumbled now, then his betrayal of Oliver really would have been for nothing.

Aware that the magazine was failing miserably to command his attention, he casually discarded it on to the floor. He looked across at the large doors on the other side of the penthouse, firmly closed shut. Behind those doors was the Green Arrow's control room, and the place where Chloe now labored intensely over a computer, trying to decode Lex's files. She'd been in there all day, refusing to take a break and determined to search every last file for even the merest hint of a lead that might help to bring Lex to justice. The wait was killing Jimmy – would she find anything about Oliver? With every hour that passed and the doors remained closed, his hopes grew that perhaps he would be lucky, perhaps he would escape the consequences of his actions. But the waiting.... the waiting was too much to bear!

Hoping for some relief from the misery of waiting, Jimmy reached for the remote and turned on the television. He was startled to find a photo of Lex staring back at him; the events of last night were still dominating the news bulletins. As Jimmy watched one of Lex's spokesmen appeared on screen, surrounded by eager reporters bursting with questions; refusing to take any, the spokesman read a prepared statement in which Lex denied all the allegations that Bart had made against him hours before. The charges were false, according to the statement, the scurrilous accusations of a terrorist group that had been hounding Lex for months. The spokesman demanded action, and the immediate arrest of those who had targeted LuthorCorp.

The spokesman was right in one respect, of course; Bart and the others had no concrete evidence to substantiate their allegations. Whatever the truth, for as long as evidence of Lex's criminal activities remained elusive there would be nothing to counter the charges of LuthorCorp public relations machine.

"Jimmy! Jimmy, I think I've found something!"

Chloe's excited voice caused Jimmy's heart to miss a beat. This was it – the moment that the long hours of waiting had been building towards. Within a minute or so he would know whether his betrayal was to be exposed, or whether he had been spared the shame of discovery. As he stood up his legs felt like jelly; with difficulty he attempted to mask his fear behind a veneer of curiosity as he made his way towards the door to Oliver's control room.

"Jimmy, look at this – I think I've found what we've been looking for."

Chloe barely turned around as he entered the room, her attention entirely focused on the screen of her computer. Jimmy felt a surge of relief as he moved to stand beside her – if she had found evidence that Oliver was alive, she surely would have said so by now.

"I thought I'd drawn a blank, until I found some emails sent by Dr Thomas to Lex," said Chloe, still staring intently at the screen. "I knew he was at the heart of Lex's operation – and this proves it."

"What does? I don't get it."

"Read these emails, Jimmy. Thomas has been conducting secret experiments for Lex – experiments on live human beings. And you know what else? He's been doing it here, in Metropolis – in the LuthorCorp building, no less."

Jimmy looked at the screen, where Chloe was displaying a number of documents, reports from Thomas to Lex. He read the first:

_Report: Treatment of Subject 29 _

_First treatment a success. As expected, Subject 29 is unusually strong-willed; future treatments will have to be longer if the outcome desired is to be achieved._

Then the next:

_Report: Treatment of Subject 29_

_Second treatment fifteen minutes longer than Treatment One; subject's resistance noticeably weaker, particularly during later stages of session._

And a third:

_Report: Treatment of Subject 29_

_Resistance of Subject 29 clearly fading; physically and mentally the patient is exhausted. Should we continue, or allow the patient time to recover?_

Jimmy looked at Chloe.

"Chloe, I don't want to rain on your parade, but this doesn't prove anything – they are just medical reports, nothing more."

"That's what I thought – until I read Lex's reply to this last report. He's not so good at hiding the truth of what he and Thomas are up to."

She then clicked on a link on the screen, and brought up a copy of an email.

_Allow our guest some respite, doctor – I don't want you to kill him just yet. Give him twenty-four hours, and then begin work on him once more. Akunin is impressed by your methods, by the way – she has rarely seen torture carried out with such clinical efficiency. Praise indeed, my friend!_

"They're torturing people, Jimmy – right here in Metropolis. Expose this, and Lex is finished!"

Jimmy wasn't listening. Lex's email had confirmed what he had feared – that "Subject 29" was Oliver Queen.

"How do you know this is happening in Metropolis? It could be happening anywhere."

"I traced the origin of Thomas's emails – they all came from within the LuthorCorp building, and they were all sent within the last week to ten days. This is dynamite, Jimmy! This is what we've been waiting for!"

Jimmy felt paralysed. Lex's files may not have revealed the truth about Oliver, but they had come very close – it was only a matter of time now before Chloe found out the truth. He needed to delay her, slow her up somehow so that he could have time to think, time to work out how to escape from the trap he had made for himself.

"Let's not rush into this Chloe – we need to tread carefully now. Let's do some more digging on Thomas – see what else we can find out."

"There's no time, Jimmy! This "Subject 29" guy is being held prisoner – we've got to get him out of there! He's the key, Jimmy – if we can rescue him he'll be able to blow the lid off Lex's operation and provide enough evidence to put him away for good."

"Chloe..."

"I'm going to contact the guys. A rescue mission will need some planning, especially as Lex will have stepped up security. And we need the most recent plans for the LuthorCorp building – I'm certain the plans we've been using are out-of-date. Somewhere in that building there's a secret lab, and we've got to know where it is – we can't go in blind. Can you handle that, Jimmy? Can you hunt down whatever you can find about that place? Any recent building work Lex has had done, that sort of thing."

Chloe's excitement was tangible, and it was obvious to Jimmy that any hope he might have had of slowing her down was futile. Not waiting for him to reply, she turned back to her computer screen, her fingers immediately working feverishly over the keyboard. Jimmy hesitated for a moment, uncertain of what to do, before quietly he retreated back into the main body of the penthouse.

Once out of sight of Chloe, he stopped, leaning against the wall. He felt physically sick, a wave of nausea combining with a cold sweat to make it momentarily difficult for him to stand unaided. He had gambled – and he had failed. How could he have been so stupid? Why had he allowed himself to fall into this trap, when this outcome was all too predictable? He shuddered as he thought of the scene that might play out in that very room within a matter of days, a scene in which a rescued Oliver exposed his treachery before the guys, before Chloe...... It was almost too unbearable to even think about.

_Get a hold of yourself, Jimmy Olsen!_ A voice inside his head, strong and insistent, demanded his attention. He had made his choice, and what was done could not be undone. He now had a choice – either he would collapse, allow himself to become a victim of his own madness, or he would fight to keep what he wanted more than anything else in the world. The game was not yet over, after all – Chloe and the guys still didn't know the true identity of Subject 29. There was still all to play for, if he could just keep his head, stay focused.....

He stood upright, pausing for a moment before making for the elevator. There was a new purpose to his stride, a sense of determination.

He knew what he had to do. It would be dangerous, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He didn't know whether the path he was about to embark upon would lead to success, but he did know one thing.

He had to do all in his power to ensure that Oliver Queen did not escape Lex Luthor alive.

* * *

First of all another MASSIVE thankyou to all those of you who reviewed the last chapter - to get all that feedback made my week! I hoped Jimmy's betrayal would provoke a reaction, and it clearly did. The poor guy is conflicted - he knows what's right, but he can't help himself, and as you can see from this chapter, his betrayal is going to lead him into a very dark place indeed. And that is going to mean a lot of trouble - for everyone!

Please do keep letting me know what you think - it really is so important to keep getting feedback. Big things ahead - lots of angst and action. And a happy ending? Not for everyone, I fear....

More next week!


	21. Chapter 21: A Deal with the Devil

**Chapter Twenty One: A Deal with the Devil**

Lex sat at his desk in the LuthorCorp building, seemingly deep in thought. Twenty-four hours had passed since his moment of triumph had ended in ignominy and humiliation at the hands of the Justice League, twenty-four hours in which the LuthorCorp public relations machine had been forced into overdrive in order to refute the allegations made by Bart Allen. Lex still smarted from the experience of the previous evening. It was not so much what had been said – the accusations lacked evidence to support them, and could therefore be readily denied – but more the way in which he had been attacked, in the heart of his empire. Oliver's band of freaks had breached his defences, and worse still, he had had to face the mockery of an upstart teenager, some punk kid from the wrong side of the tracks. It hurt, hurt more than Lex cared to admit – and all on an evening that should have been about his victory over Oliver.

He glanced down at his desk, where three files lay open. From each a face looked back at him, the faces of Bart Allen, Arthur Curry and Victor Stone. He had spent the last hour studying their files, reminding himself of all that he knew about the individual members of the so-called Justice League. He had been wrong, he realised that now – capturing Oliver was not the end. The team that the Green Arrow had created was strong enough to withstand his demise, strong enough to carry on its vendetta against Lex. The conclusion was clear – the Justice League must be destroyed. And if, in the process, he could add to Oliver's sense of hopelessness, his sense of utter defeat, then it would be more than worth the trouble. The only question was, how to destroy them? They were smart, powerful, and always one step ahead of the game. Moreover, they would now be on their guard, making apprehending them still more difficult. He needed a break, a way in – but what?

Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

"Come in."

"Sorry to disturb you, Mr Luthor, but there's someone here to see you."

Lex glanced at the clock on his desk. It was getting late, and he was in no mood for visitors.

"Tell them to make an appointment to see me tomorrow – I'm not seeing anyone tonight."

"He insists he must see you tonight, sir – says it's important."

"Who is it?"

"Says his name is Jimmy Olsen."

Jimmy Olsen! Lex had not expected to hear that name. What was he doing here? Lex was immediately intrigued, sensing that this unexpected intrusion into his evening might yield something to his advantage.

"Is anyone with him?"

"No, sir – he's alone."

So Chloe wasn't with him. The two had been inseparable since Oliver's supposed death, and it was clear to Lex that the young photographer had designs on her. Why had he come to see him on his own? Curiosity aroused, Lex's decision was inevitable.

"Show Mr Olsen in."

Within seconds Jimmy appeared in the doorway. It was immediately obvious that the young man was nervous, uncomfortable; he made eye contact with Lex for barely a second, before the sound of the door being closed behind him caused him to glance back in the direction in which he had come. He seemed frightened, almost terrified, and the door closing seemed only to add to his anxiety. Lex could not help but think he looked like a trapped animal – but why had he chosen to come here, to the lion's den?

"Mr Olsen, this is a surprise! Please take a seat."

Lex's voice, reassuring and authoritative, filled the room. Without replying, Jimmy did as he was told and took a seat on the opposite side of Lex's desk.

"So what can I do for you, Mr Olsen? I have to admit I'm curious – even more so because you're here without Chloe. How is she, by the way? With all the excitement of last night's little entertainment I wasn't able to say goodbye to the two of you."

"She's fine....fine." Jimmy's voice was quiet, hesitant, leaving Lex with the impression that whatever Jimmy had to say, it was not going to come easily.

"I'm glad to hear that. She's had a lot to cope with – Oliver's death must have hit her hard. It's good that she's got someone like you to look out for her at such a difficult time, someone who really cares for her."

Lex studied Jimmy's reactions as he spoke, trying to detect some clue as to why Jimmy might have come to see him. Had the young man flinched at the mention of Oliver's name? It had been over in a split second, but Lex was certain he'd seen something. What did it mean?

"So, Mr Olsen – may I call you Jimmy, by the way? Mr Olsen seems so formal."

Jimmy nodded his assent.

"So, what brings you to my office, Jimmy? Is it something about Chloe? Is she in some sort of trouble?"

"You could say that, yeah." Lex's final words seemed to have given Jimmy something to latch on to, an opening on which to build. Lex recognised the slight change in the young man's tone, and persevered.

"What sort of trouble, Jimmy? If I can help you know I'll do what I can."

"Before I tell you, I need you to promise me. Promise me that you won't hurt Chloe, or any of her friends."

Lex stared at Jimmy for a moment. There was an urgency to Jimmy's plea that aroused both his curiosity and his concern. Why would he want to hurt Chloe? What had she found out?

"I can't imagine why you'd think I'd want to hurt Chloe," said Lex eventually, trying to maintain the friendly demeanour with which he had started the encounter.

"Just promise me you won't hurt her, okay? If you can't make that promise then I'm walking straight back out of that door."

Lex paused again, studying intensely the face of the man who sat opposite him. At last he spoke.

"Okay, Jimmy," he said quietly. "You have my word."

Jimmy seemed to visibly relax, as if the first stage of this difficult encounter had been successfully negotiated.

"So tell me, Jimmy," continued Lex, "what kind of trouble is Chloe in?"

"Last night, when everyone was focused on what was happening at the reception....."

"Yes?"

"Chloe broke into this office." Jimmy spoke quickly, as if a dam of pent-up tension had broken. "She downloaded your files, Mr Luthor – _all_ of your files."

Lex remained impassive, but behind his mask of studied calm his mind was racing. It was now all too clear what yesterday's attack had really been about – a diversion, a trick to enable Chloe to strike at the very heart of his operation. What could she have got her hands on? Was there anything incriminating, anything that she could use against him?

"Why are you telling me this, Jimmy? You know I could have Chloe arrested – you too, of course, as I presume you were her willing accomplice."

"You won't do that."

"And why not?"

"Because she knows about Patient 29."

This time it was Jimmy's turn to study the face of the man opposite, watching for any signs of recognition, any flicker of concern. Lex was notoriously self-controlled, but even he could not mask the surprise that showed on his face at the mention of Patient 29. It was only there for a fraction of a second, but Jimmy had seen it – fear.

Silence filled the room, a silence that seemed to go on forever. Both men stared at each other, trying to read the face of their adversary, discern their true intentions. Jimmy was conscious that the balance of power in the encounter had now shifted; where once he had clearly been at a disadvantage, now he was more the equal of the man with whom he had come to bargain.

It was Lex who eventually broke the silence.

I don't know what you and Chloe think you know, Jimmy," he began, deciding that at this stage denial remained his best course of action. "But let me assure you, all LuthorCorp activities are completely lawful."

"I doubt if a Court would find torture lawful, Mr Luthor."

"Why are you really here, Jimmy? If you and Chloe have evidence that I've committed some sort of crime, then take it to the police – you'll never prove a thing."

It was clear that Lex was increasingly unsettled by the conversation, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. Jimmy, however, felt more and more confident; he was ready to lay his cards on the table.

"I'm here, Mr Luthor, because I know something Chloe doesn't know – I know the true identity of Patient 29."

And so it was out there – he had taken his gamble. He knew the risk he was taking, but it was a calculated risk. All he could do was wait, and see how Lex reacted to his revelation.

Lex said nothing, but continued to stare at Jimmy. His face was difficult to read, the product of years of learning how to control his emotions, masking his true feelings. His mind, however, was in overdrive, considering possibilities, working out courses of action, calculating risks. Did he really know the identity of Patient 29? How was that possible? There was no evidence of a security breach, but Oliver had been left alone for some minutes at the height of yesterday's drama – was it possible that Jimmy had found his captive? If he had, then why was he here? Why hadn't he told Chloe? What did he want? So many questions, but only the man opposite held the answers; Olsen clearly held all the cards. Lex sensed there was great danger in this unexpected turn of events, but also perhaps an opportunity. Jimmy had an agenda, that much was obvious, and a man with an agenda always presented Lex with an opening, a way to regain the initiative.

"You're bluffing," said Lex eventually, deciding once more that, for the time being at least, denial was the best form of defence.

"Believe that if you want, Mr Luthor. I'll just head back to Chloe and tell her who I found shackled and gagged behind a one-way mirror in this building last night – I'm sure she won't need convincing."

So it was true – he did know the truth about Oliver! But what was Jimmy's angle? What was he after? Lex decided it was time to bring the shadow-boxing to an end – it was time to find out why Jimmy Olsen was really here.

"You're a brave man, Mr Olsen, I'll give you that. Brave – or perhaps that should be foolish. If you know the identity of my guest you'll also know that you've taken a great risk in coming here tonight."

"I don't think so, Mr Luthor. You see I've got something to offer, something more than just my silence."

"And what might that be?"

"Chloe's determined to find out the identity of Patient 29. She's planning a second visit here, to bust him out of whatever prison you've managed to hide away in this building. I'm guessing that you'd rather that didn't happen – I'm offering you the information you need to keep one step ahead."

"And I suspect that she isn't intending to come alone, is she? Her little friends will no doubt come along for the ride."

Lex opened the files on his desk and turned them around, so that Jimmy could see their contents. This time it was Jimmy's turn to look surprised, as he found himself looking at mug shots of Victor, Bart and AC.

"As you can see, I know a lot more about Chloe than you think. You really should advise her about the company she keeps – freaks like these can only get her into trouble."

Jimmy stared at the photos for a moment. He hadn't realised that Lex knew about Chloe's connection to the Justice League, not that in retrospect it surprised him a great deal; keeping anything a secret from Lex was a major challenge. He wanted to protect his new friends, as well as his relationship with Chloe; it was time to make his offer.

"Here's the deal, Mr Luthor. I keep you informed about Chloe's plans to rescue your guest, but only if you agree to leave Chloe and the others alone. What do you say?"

Silence again filled the room, adding to the tension that both men felt.

"It's an interesting proposal, Jimmy. Certainly knowing about any possible rescue plans would help me to stay one step ahead – I'm keen to ensure that my guest remains in custody, as you can imagine."

"I can give you what you need – but on the condition that no one gets hurt."

"Except a certain billionaire from Star City."

Jimmy flinched slightly; he did not like to be reminded of the stark reality of his proposal, the continuing imprisonment of a man who had done nothing to deserve the fate that the two of them were conspiring to perpetuate.

"My concern is for Chloe – nothing else matters," he replied awkwardly, aware that his discomfort was all too obvious.

"And yourself, I think," replied Lex, smiling back at his prospective partner. "You know I've been thinking as we've been sitting here, Jimmy – what possible advantage could you get out of this arrangement that you are proposing? But of course the answer to that is clear – you'll have Chloe all to yourself, won't you? No handsome, square jawed hero to compete with – just you and your little reporter, living happily ever after. Is that it, Jimmy? Is that why you're prepared to do this?"

Jimmy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The spotlight had been turned onto his motives, a subject he preferred not to explore, especially with a man like Lex Luthor.

"My motives are my business," he replied stiffly, trying to move the discussion forward. "Do we have a deal or don't we?"

"But your motives are my business, Jimmy, don't you see that? I need to know that I can trust you, that you won't renege on the arrangement that you are proposing."

Jimmy sighed, aware that Lex was not going to allow him to evade the confession that he sought.

"Okay, I love her, does that satisfy you? I love her more than anything else in the world, and I'll do anything to keep her, even if it means I have to sell my soul to do it. Is that enough for you? Is it?" Jimmy spoke rapidly, angrily, as if the inner turmoil that had accompanied his decision to betray Oliver had found an outlet, albeit a brief one.

Lex smiled reassuringly at the tense young man who now sat on the edge of his seat just across his desk from him. He'd seen what he'd needed to see in Jimmy's outburst, evidence of a love so intense that he would make any sacrifice to keep it alive. It was clear that Jimmy knew the likely consequences of his actions, but that his passion had extinguished any qualms he might have about condemning an innocent man to death. The ardour of a young man in love would ensure that Jimmy held up his part of the bargain, at least for the time being. If things changed, well, if Lex was right, by then it would be too late for Oliver, indeed it would be too late for all of them....

"I think we have a deal, Jimmy," said Lex, standing and moving around the side of his desk. Following Lex's lead, Jimmy also stood, to find the other man offering his hand. Jimmy stared at it for a moment, as if a handshake would in some important way mark the point of no return.

"And I have your word that you'll nor harm Chloe and the others?" he asked, looking from Lex's outstretched hand to the smiling face of his new ally.

"You have my word, Jimmy – I'm not interested in them, only their ringleader. You provide me with the information about their plans, and I'll make sure that when they turn up, they find nothing of importance – and certainly not our mutual friend."

Reassured, Jimmy half offered his hand to Lex. He still felt uncertain – how could he trust Lex? On one level the idea of doing a deal with a man with Luthor's track record seemed utter madness. But what choice did he have? Lex was the only one capable of keeping Chloe and the others from finding Oliver. He either worked with Lex, protecting Chloe in the process, or he lost Chloe forever. There was no choice – he had to go ahead.

Lex reached out and grabbed Jimmy's hand, as if to make sure that the photographer did not allow his misgivings to get the better of him.

"You have a bright future in front of you, Jimmy," said Lex, guiding him towards the door. "As soon as you have any news, let me know – I'll make the necessary arrangements to have the archer moved to a more secure location."

Jimmy smiled weakly, before turning and making his way out of the office.

As soon as Lex shut the door after Jimmy a wave of relief flooded through him. To think of how close he had come to disaster! What if it had been Chloe or one of Oliver's little band of terrorists who had discovered his prisoner last night? Queen would have escaped, and everything he'd worked for would have been destroyed. The thought of what might have been caused a shudder to run down his back. But he'd been lucky – Olsen had discovered his captive, a man with his own reasons for wanting the truth about Oliver Queen to remain hidden. Lex thought about the young man with whom he had just negotiated one of the most important deals of his life. He would not normally have given someone like Jimmy a second thought – how bizarre it was that the passions of this apparently innocuous little man had saved his scheme to destroy Oliver from complete ruin. Jimmy was very much in love, that much was clear, and for a moment Lex wondered at the ability of someone as ordinary as Chloe Sullivan to arouse such strong passions in two very different men. But his love made him unstable, and therefore potentially dangerous. Jimmy Olsen had been brave in coming to see Lex, but he was a loose end that would have to be dealt with, eventually....

Lex walked slowly back towards his desk, where he picked up the files on the members of the Justice League. He had promised not to harm them, of course, but Lex did not feel bound by any assurances he'd given to Jimmy. When he'd said that he was only interested in the Green Arrow, he'd been lying – after last night's humiliation, the destruction of the Justice League had become an imperative for him.

He stared at the faces of the young men in the files, his mouth curling in contempt as he recalled their codenames: Aquaman, Cyborg, Impulse. How absurd those names were! A product of Queen's juvenile imagination, no doubt. Oliver's team, his pride and joy....How he hated them! A twisted smile formed on Lex's lips as he thought about what now was possible, of how he would bring this band of arrogant terrorists to heel. He had a man on the inside, a cuckoo in the nest who would tell him their every move. He had been honest with Jimmy in one respect, at least – when they attacked his operation next time they would not find Patient 29. What they would find was a trap – and death, death at his hands, as their powerless former leader would be forced to watch.

Lex reached for his cell, placing a call to his most trusted lieutenant, Akunin.

"Rachel? Come to my office immediately. We need to make plans – I think I know how to capture Oliver's little gang of terrorists."

* * *

So as you can see, Jimmy's decision to betray Oliver is taking him to a very dark place indeed. Will he really go through with it? You'll have to wait and see - all I'll say is that the most dramatic moments of this story are still to come!

Thanks SO MUCH to all those who have posted reviews - it's great to get feedback! Not much sympathy for Jimmy out there at the moment - and I guess this chapter hasn't helped! Please do keep letting me know what you think - EVERY review gives me a real buzz!

Looking forward to the next few episodes of Smallville, although I'm worried that Oliver isn't going to survive to next season. I do hope he and Chloe make it - we need to see more of them next year!


	22. Chapter 22: Plans Revealed

**Chapter Twenty Two: Plans Revealed**

Chloe glanced into her mirror as she turned down the side street towards her destination. She must have looked at least a dozen times since she had begun her journey some fifteen minutes before, every look reassuring her that she wasn't being followed. This time was no different; no car followed her into the dimly lit street, closely boxed in to either side by the featureless walls of warehouses and workshops. She felt relieved; ever since her adventure inside the LuthorCorp building two days earlier, she been living on her nerves, her excitement at the breakthrough she had made concerning Lex's operation tempered by her fear that he might strike back before she had time to marshal her forces. She believed, or perhaps hoped, that Lex continued to be unaware of her connection to the Justice League, but the danger of him making the connection between her investigation of Dr Thomas and the guys attack on the LuthorCorp building could not be ignored. She had, after all, been there, and Lex was no fool; they had not been overcautious when, after the attack, they had decided that it was best for the guys to stay away from the penthouse, in case it was being watched. If she was being monitored, Lex's men were being highly efficient, for every time she had passed in and out of the building which housed Oliver's apartment over the previous two days nothing had seemed out of the ordinary. But still she was anxious, nervous – they were so close to success, but she also knew that in attacking Lex they had played with a fire that might yet leave them badly burned.

Chloe brought the car to a halt, peering out at the building to her left to check that she'd got the right address. She had - they'd arrived at their destination, a warehouse secretly leased by a subsidiary of Queen Industries. Victor had called her a couple of hours before, summoning her to this rendezvous; apparently the guys had secured the information they needed, and were ready to finalise the details of the mission that they all hoped would produce the evidence that at last would bring Luthor to his knees. The thought of that made Chloe's heart beat a little faster – that final all important breakthrough seemed so tantalisingly close now! If only Oliver could have been there to see it, his absence tempering her excitement with a feeling of regret. How he would have enjoyed this! The culmination of his life's work, standing on the threshold of finally bringing Luthor to justice. She felt a warm glow of happiness to think that she was about to honour his memory by completing his mission, and it comforted her to think that somewhere out there he was watching her, supporting her and sharing her joy and sense of achievement.

"This is it," she said, glancing across at Jimmy, who sat next to her in the passenger seat. He did not return her look, instead staring out of the windshield at the building they were about to enter. He'd said nothing as they had driven from the penthouse, but his silence had not surprised Chloe; ever since their adventure at LuthorCorp he'd seemed quiet, withdrawn, as if something was preying on his mind. She'd asked him about it, tried to get him to open up, but every time he'd politely rebuffed her concern with a half-smile and a few words of reassurance. Something was eating him, that was clear, but she didn't have the time to figure out what; Jimmy's preoccupations would have to wait.

The two of them got out of the car and headed across to the small door that was the entrance to the warehouse. Glancing one last time down the empty street to make sure she wasn't being observed, she pressed the button on the worn intercom next to the door.

"Watchtower here, can we come in?"

"Hey Watchtower! Come on up!" It was AC's voice that welcomed them.

There was the sound of a lock moving, before Chloe took the handle of the door and pushed it open. She entered, followed by Jimmy.

Inside the warehouse they immediately turned left, and mounted a flight of stairs which led to the first floor. They struggled to find their way in the semi-darkness, but ahead Chloe could see a horizontal sliver of bright light at the top of the stairs, light which was seeping from beneath a closed door. In a few seconds they had reached their destination, Chloe opening the door and entering the brightly lit room beyond.

The room was spartan, save for a few chairs, a couch and a TV. AC and Victor stood next to the only table in the room, apparently studying intently the contents of a large piece of paper that covered it completely. Bart was lounging on one of the chairs nearby.

"Hi guys!" said Chloe brightly. AC and Victor looked across and smiled warmly, before Bart leapt from his chair to greet the two visitors.

"Watchtower! Man, am I glad to see you – stuck here for two days with mainframe and tuna man and I am going crazy!" Bart's energy was infectious, and brought a smile to Chloe's face.

"Well it's not the penthouse, I'll give you that," she replied.

"You can say that again – check this place out! No cable, no takeouts, no nothing – this laying low thing, it's more than a guy should have to bear!"

"I think you'll live," said Chloe, before moving across to the table to join Victor and AC. Bart and Jimmy followed, both aware that this was not a social call – it was time to finalise the plan for hitting LuthorCorp for the second time in less than a week.

"What's this?" asked Chloe, looking down at the large sheet of paper that lay across the top of the table.

"The designs for the LuthorCorp building," said Victor, smiling across at Chloe. "Only these are not the designs that are on record – these are the designs that Lex has kept hidden from the public gaze."

"How did you get them?"

"Hey, you know me – if it's on a computer somewhere, I always find a way. It's as you suspected – there is a secret level to the building, hidden underground. See – its shown here."

Victor pointed at an area of the plan shown in red, presumably to indicate its top secret status.

"And that's where they must be holding Patient 29," said AC, a frown forming on his brow as he crossed his arms. "Man, when I think of what that poor guy must be going through down there. Any idea who he is?"

"No – all my digging has turned up nothing." Chloe's voice was serious; AC's words had reminded her that in all her excitement, there was a man to save, a man who even as they stood there might be experiencing unimaginable torment at the hands of Lex and his goons.

"So what's the plan, guys? I was so pumped after we hit Lex last time, it was awesome!" Bart appeared barely able to control his enthusiasm.

"Access to the hidden level is here, through the underground parking area." Victor's voice, in contrast to the teenager's, was measured and calm. "I'll take down the security system here, and AC and Jimmy will go in and rescue Lex's mystery guest. Bart will act as back-up in an emergency."

"Back up! Aww , dude, why can't I go in with the fish?"

"Because I need you outside the building if something goes wrong – you'll be able to provide a diversion if we need one."

"And what about me? What am I doing?"

Chloe's question brought the conversation to a momentary halt, the guys turning to look at her.

"Well, you'll stay in the penthouse – monitor operations." Victor seemed a little hesitant as he spoke the words, sensing the air of determination that surrounded Chloe.

"No, I don't think so. I'm going in with AC – Jimmy can stay in the penthouse. You'd prefer that, wouldn't you Jimmy?"

"Chloe, I don't think this is a good idea. This mission is no.."

"Place for a woman?" Chloe's words cut off Victor in mid-sentence. "You guys need to enter the twenty-first century. I've got far more operational experience than Jimmy – it makes sense that I go in. After all, with AC to look after me, what could possibly go wrong?"

AC smiled at the compliment, but Victor looked unconvinced; Chloe realised that she had more work to do to persuade him.

"Victor, can I have a word with you for a moment – in private?"

Chloe took the young man by the arm and led him to one side, just out of earshot of the others. Making sure their backs were to the table, she began to whisper her concerns to Victor.

"Look, Jimmy's not up to this mission, okay? You've not seen him this last forty-eight hours. He's been withdrawn, quiet – that little adventure he had in LuthorCorp has really shaken him up. Trust me – he's not ready for another field op, not just yet. I go in – or we'll have to put the whole thing on hold."

Victor looked at Chloe for a second, before glancing over his shoulder at Jimmy.

"Okay," he said finally. "It's agreed – Chloe goes in, Jimmy stays at the penthouse. You good with that, Jimmy?"

Jimmy was staring at the plans, but his mind was elsewhere; Victor's words caught him slightly off guard, and his reply – distant, hesitant – seemed only to confirm what Chloe had said about his preparedness for the mission.

"What? Yeah....yeah, I'm fine with that."

Then it's settled," said Chloe decisively. "We move tomorrow night, mission commencing at 2300 hours."

* * *

Jimmy stood in the darkened alley, wrapping his jacket close around his body as a protection against the chill of the night air. Three hours had passed since he and Chloe had met the guys, but for Jimmy the end of that meeting had been far from the end of his evening. He'd returned with Chloe to the penthouse, only to make his excuses and leave. He had known what he had to do; a quick call to Lex, and the result was a second rendezvous in a dark street in Metropolis. However, unlike the first, he had no fear of being followed; it was clear that Chloe and the others had no idea of the game Jimmy was playing. As he stood awaiting Lex's arrival, he thought back to the events of earlier in the evening, and indeed his behaviour over the previous two days. He was aware that he had appeared withdrawn, but he knew that Chloe put that down to the trauma of his first mission; she had no idea of what was really preoccupying him, of the terrible decision that even now continued to eat away at his soul. His only comfort was that it would soon all be over; Lex would ensure that when the guys went in they would find nothing, and the trail which led to Oliver would once again run cold.

The sound of a car turning into the narrow alley attracted Jimmy's attention, its lights momentarily dazzling him. It soon pulled up alongside, its doors opening to allow Lex and Akunin to get out.

"Jimmy! It was good to get your call. I don't know whether you've met my associate, Miss Akunin – she'll be taking charge of this operation."

Jimmy nodded nervously towards Akunin, who regarded him without emotion.

"So tell me, what are Chloe and her friends planning?"

Taking a deep breath, Jimmy began to outline the details of the plan that he had heard described just hours before. He found it difficult at first, the words not coming easily as an awareness of the enormity of what he was doing filled his mind. But it soon became easier, and before he had finished Jimmy had told Lex everything – times, locations, who was completing which part of the mission, everything.

"You've done well, Jimmy, very well indeed," said Lex, when at last Jimmy had completed his confession. "Rachel, you'll make the necessary arrangements?"

"Yes, Mr Luthor. My men will be in place – they won't escape this time."

Jimmy's eyes widened at Akunin's words.

_They won't escape this time._

In an instant he understood the significance of that phrase. Lex wasn't planning to let the guys go - he was planning to capture them.

"What do you mean? Look, we had a deal, Lex – you gave me your word that no one would get hurt. If you renege on our agreement I'll...."

"You'll do what?" Lex interrupted Jimmy, his earlier joviality replaced by a harder tone. "Go to the police? I don't think so, do you? You see there's been a change of plans, Jimmy – there really is no way I can pass up on an opportunity to put an end to the activities of the Green Arrow's little band of terrorists once and for all, now is there? Don't worry, Jimmy – I've no intention of hurting your precious little Chloe, although she might need some....how can I put this? ....memory readjustment before I release her into your tender care."

"You can't do this, Lex! I won't let you!"

Jimmy lunged at Lex, only to be brought to his knees by an expertly placed blow to the gut by Akunin. Winded, he crouched in pain on the ground as Lex stood over him.

"I can do this, Olsen – and I will. You'll do as you're told or it won't just be those freaks who come to an unpleasant end tomorrow night, understand?"

Jimmy did not reply, but remained staring at the ground. The insanity of trusting Lex was now all too clear to him, but he had been trapped, just as surely as Lex had trapped Oliver.

He knew he had no choice but to comply; he, Jimmy Olsen, would have to help Lex destroy the Justice League.

* * *

Well, many of you said Jimmy was a fool to trust Lex - guess you were right! I'm enjoying exploring how one awful decision on his part has trapped him in a downward spiral of betrayal - will he eventually do the right thing? Will he achieve redemption? All will be revealed...

Some big chapters coming up, as you can guess - lots of angst and drama. And I know some of you are missing Ollie - don't worry, he's back in the next chapter. I know where I'm going with this in general, but I'm wondering just how dark I should take it - should I kill someone off? Still thinking about it.....

Thanks so much for reading, and of course another massive thanks to all you wonderful reviewers! Please keep reviewing - you have no idea how much your comments mean to me!


	23. Chapter 23: Just a Matter of Time

**Chapter Twenty Three: Just a Matter of Time**

_Soon now. Soon this nightmare will be over._

Oliver sat on the floor of his prison, his back resting against the hard steel of the bars of the cage. Two, possibly three days had passed since the drama of Lex's evening reception; Oliver couldn't be sure exactly how long, since in the subterranean world that Lex had created any perception of time passing was distorted beyond all recognition. However, in Oliver's mind the events of that evening were as vivid and real as they had been when he was first returned to his cell all those hours ago. The agony of seeing Chloe, of being so close to her and yet unable to reach out and take her in his arms, to kiss her and tell her it was all going to be okay, that the dreams they shared of a life together were still very much alive. The excitement of seeing Bart's face on that screen, his heart swelling with pride to see the team that he had moulded carrying on the fight against Lex Luthor. The miracle of Jimmy's appearance before him, the hope that rescue after all might be possible....

It was that hope of rescue that had stayed with him on his return to the cage, and which had sustained him through the interminable hours of waiting that he had endured since. He had been largely left alone; there had been no further session with Dr Thomas, no visits from Akunin or Lex. Only Carter continued to appear, his jailer-in-chief ensuring that he was fed and watered. Carter's appearances were invariably accompanied by a beating, the man's twisted desire to inflict pain on his captive showing no signs of abating. The first assault after the reception had been particularly brutal, but at the end of it Oliver found himself smiling through the pain; it was clear from Carter's comments that he was taking out on Oliver the frustration he felt at having been bested by AC and Victor during the attack. That smile was just one sign of the renewed strength that Oliver felt. The hope of rescue had transformed him, pulling him back from the brink of mental collapse. He could survive the beatings now, he could endure Thomas's torments if need be, for the prospect of salvation had reinvigorated him, given him a fresh will to live. He even found that he was able to push the memory of Akunin's assault to the back of his mind; he was going to survive this, _this nightmare will soon be over..._

Slowly he pulled himself to his feet, stretching his muscles as he did so. He had been left unshackled in the cage, and as a consequence he had been able to exercise in a way that had not been possible for quite some time. His muscles were tired, exhausted from the beatings and the sessions with Dr Thomas, but carefully, expertly, he was starting to rebuild the strength that had once enabled him to fight all comers as the Green Arrow. Exercise not only helped to pass the time, to break up the monotony of waiting, but it also helped to prepare him for whatever the future might have in store. When the guys came for him he needed to be ready; they might have to fight their way out, and he was determined to ensure that when the time came he would be able to offer his friends all the support he could.

He began to go through the sequence of muscle stretches that he had developed to help revive his battered frame, starting with his legs. As he did so, thoughts of the future tumbled into his mind, as they had done so many times since his return to the cage. _The future!_ Even the word had the power to send his heart soaring. Days earlier he had had no future, or at least no future that he could bear to contemplate; there had only been the agony of the prospect of weeks, perhaps even months of torture, before Lex and Akunin tired of their games and decided to put an end to him, once and for all. Now he could dream again, dream of the future he would share with Chloe. He would take her to Paris, to Rome, anywhere she wanted to go – it didn't matter, so long as they were together. They would have survived the trial of separation, and emerged stronger, more in love than ever. Her face appeared in his mind, as vivid as if she were there with him in the room, smiling that amazing smile - to think that soon he would be with her once more!

_When would they come? When would the guys come?_

Thoughts of Chloe turned to the more immediate prospect of the rescue mission that was probably even then being finalised. As he continued to work through his stretches, moving to work on his upper body and arms, he wondered how they would do it, how they would breach Lex's defences. After Jimmy had told them the truth of his captivity there would have been celebrations, of course, but then the preparations would have begun in earnest. LuthorCorp security systems were impressive; Lex would probably consider them impregnable. But Oliver had complete faith in his team, a confidence that whatever the obstacles, they would overcome them. And after all, at last the tables had been turned – now it was they who would have the element of surprise on their side, and it would be Lex's turn to suffer a dramatic reversal of fortune.

_And yet still they had not come..._

Not for the first time, Oliver suddenly felt a pang of concern, a cloud of doubt momentarily masking his resurgent optimism. Possibly three days had passed, and nothing had happened – no sign of Cyborg breaking down the massive door that sealed him into this living hell, no wisecracks from Bart as he broke the locks that imprisoned him in the cage. How much longer would he have to wait? Had something gone wrong? Maybe Jimmy hadn't made it out, maybe he was also now a prisoner, maybe there was no rescue in the making.....

_Think rationally, Oliver Queen – stay calm!_

Oliver's rising sense of anxiety was quelled by the voice of sense sounding in his mind. Jimmy had escaped – he was sure of that. If he'd been captured then Lex would have made an appearance long ago, crowing about how yet again he'd stolen any hope Oliver had of escape. But there had been no such visit – only silence. There was one obvious interpretation for Lex and Akunin's absence, and that was that they were busy clearing up the mess caused by the guys' attack on the LuthorCorp building. How that had angered Lex! He remembered his captor's rage, the way he had given vent to his anger by mercilessly beating Oliver before sending him back to the cage. He would be after the guys now, that was for sure, and perhaps that was why the rescue hadn't happened yet – his friends were having to evade Lex's goons before they could come to his aid. But they were coming, he was sure of that.

_It's just a matter of time...._

Oliver's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door to the chamber swinging open. He turned his head, for a moment hoping that the longed-for rescue had come, that Chloe and the guys had finally arrived. He was disappointed, for instead of salvation it was the figure of Lex who now approached the cage, flanked by Carter, Dr Thomas and two men dressed in the black uniforms of LuthorCorp security.

Within seconds Lex was standing at the entrance to the cage. He said nothing, but simply nodded to Carter, who proceeded to open the cage door and enter, accompanied by his men. Oliver, unconsciously straightening his back to draw himself to his full height, stood in the center of his prison, his face showing a determination and resolve that had not been there since his first days in captivity; he did not look at Carter or the others, but simply stared at Lex, as if defying him to do his worst.

"Hold out your hands," ordered Carter.

Oliver complied, aware that one of the security men had a gun trained at his head. Carter took a pair of thick handcuffs from his belt and quickly shackled him. He then stood to one side, leaving his guards to flank Oliver, one to each side.

Satisfied that his captive could pose no risk, Lex at last entered the cage and stood before Oliver. The two men stared at each other, each aware that the events of the reception had changed the nature of their struggle. Only one of them, however, knew the whole truth about the aftermath of the events of two nights earlier; his plans in place, Lex was now ready to enjoy the next act in his drama.

"You look well, Oliver," he began, his voice calm and assured and betraying nothing of the excitement that he felt inside at the prospect of what was to come. "The little rest we've given you has clearly given you an opportunity to recover your strength."

"I'm ready, Lex, ready for whatever you want to throw at me."

"Ahhh, and I see that trademark Queen arrogance has returned as well – that's good, very good. It will make what I've got in store for you all the more enjoyable."

Lex searched Oliver's face as he hinted at what was to come, looking to detect some glimmer of uncertainty. There was none; Oliver did not flinch, but instead continued to meet his gaze with the strength of a man whose hopes had been resurrected. Lex was glad, for he knew that it would make the impact of what he was about to reveal all the more devastating. It was clear that Oliver was expecting rescue, that he believed the arrival of his friends was imminent ; how delicious was it going to be to rip that hope away from him, and to tell him that far from arriving as his saviours, the Justice League were about to arrive in chains.

"You know I must apologise, Oliver," Lex continued, readying himself for the revelations to come. "We've been neglecting you, and that's inexcusable – a guest such as yourself deserves my full attention."

"Don't worry, Lex," replied Oliver. "I guess it must be tough trying to pick up the pieces after Impulse revealed what a worthless sack of shit you really are."

Lex smiled.

"You know I love those codenames you and your little band of freaks use! Impulse, Aquaman, Cyborg, Green Arrow – like children, playing at being heroes. Well this isn't the school yard, Oliver, and I'm afraid that what your terrorist friends did to me is something I can't forgive. That's why I've arranged for them to be – how shall I put this? – neutralised."

Oliver eyed Lex warily, trying to hide his concern for his friends and wondering what new game Lex was playing.

"You know you're a sore loser, Lex. Do you think they're going to walk into some sort of trap? They're way better than that, and you know it. Your goons don't stand a chance against them – just ask Carter over there."

Carter scowled at Oliver's reference to his encounter with Victor and AC, but Lex simply smiled, as if indulging a child whose bravado couldn't hide the true weakness of his position.

"Oliver, your faith in your team is touching, it really is. And normally I'd agree with you – the powers of your freaks are quite impressive, I have to confess. But this time the situation is different – this time I've got someone working on the inside."

Lex's words hung in the air for a moment, their author savouring their impact on the young man who stood before him. Oliver could not hide his confusion, his panic; the dream of rescue had in an instant disappeared, to be replaced by the nightmarish realisation that, far from being over, his ordeal might be about to take a dramatic turn for the worse.

"You've suddenly gone very quiet, Oliver – why is that, I wonder? Is it because you've realised that all those hopes of rescue you've been nurturing these last two days have been nothing but fantasy? You see I know everything, Oliver – _everything_. I know about your little encounter with Jimmy Olsen, your attempted escape, his promise to return with the cavalry – everything. Only this isn't some Hollywood western, Oliver – this time the cavalry aren't going to come riding in to save the day, or at least not in the way you'd imagined."

As Lex spoke he enjoyed watching the impact of his words on his prisoner. They had a force more powerful than any physical beating that he could have inflicted on Oliver; with every sentence the spirit, the strength, the very hope of his captive seemed to visibly drain away, like water slipping through the cracks in the sidewalk. The young man's shoulders sagged, his self-confidence replaced with a look of utter desolation. Once more Lex felt the exaltation of success, of besting his old foe – the feeling left him feeling intoxicated, almost triumphant.

When Lex finished speaking there was a split second of silence, as the full enormity of his revelation took time to work its effect. Oliver's head was spinning; he could not, he would not, accept that all the hopes that had sustained him through the long hours of waiting had been nothing more than the cruellest of illusions. It could not be! It could not be that this man, this personification of all that was evil in the world, could again triumph, could again win out over the forces of good! It wasn't meant to be like this – it couldn't be like this! Not after all he had endured, not after all the agonies he had lived through. But he had heard the words – they were no illusion. And now the one thing that had offered him comfort during the long days of imprisonment, the knowledge that his legacy would live on in the shape of the Justice League, was also to be taken from him. It was almost too much to bear, a truth too terrible to comprehend.

"Still nothing to say, Oliver? Perhaps you'll be more talkative when your friends arrive – although I'm guessing it's not going to be quite the reunion you'd planned."

Overcome by a sudden surge of anger that swept all reason before it, Oliver could contain himself no more. Ignoring the manacles that secured his hands in front of him, he lunged forward at Lex, his face contorted into a mixture of despair and rage. Lex neatly sidestepped Oliver's attack; grabbed firmly by the arms by the guards who flanked him, Oliver was then punished for his outburst with a crippling blow to the gut from Carter. The young man fell to his knees, doubled over in pain; the tears which welled up in his eyes were not just the result of the physical agony that Carter had visited upon him, but also the release of the emotional anguish that could be contained no more.

Lex grabbed Oliver by the hair and pulled his head back, the sinews of his neck muscles stretched to their fullest extent. His eyes flashed with excitement as once more he experienced the rush that physical mastery of his old rival gave him; the sight of moisture glistening in the corners of Oliver's eyes only added to his sense of exhilaration. The desperation of his captive could not now be hidden, and Lex knew that his final victory was close now – very close indeed. The capture of the Justice League would allow him to deliver the final coup de grace, the utter destruction of this man whom he hated more than anything else in the world.

The sight of Lex's twisted smile reminded Oliver of his determination not to break, to deny Lex the satisfaction of seeing him destroyed. He knew that tears sat in the corners of his eyes, but he refused to allow them to fall – at least he would deny Lex that victory. He scowled back at his tormentor, channelling his emotions into an anger that would replace his hopelessness with a rage of defiance.

"You look upset Oliver – you know you really mustn't let your emotions get the better of you. Besides, I'm sure that when your precious team arrives you'll want to play the hero – it really wouldn't do for them to see the mighty Green Arrow lose his legendary cool, now would it?"

"What have you done to Jimmy?" gasped Oliver, still recovering from Carter's blow. "Did you have your pet torturer over there brainwash him the same way as you brainwashed AC?"

Lex's smile broadened. It was clear that Oliver had no idea that Jimmy had betrayed him – in his world the only possible explanation must be that he had been drugged in some way. For a split second Lex thought about revealing the truth, but then thought better of it – the exposure of the real Jimmy Olsen could wait for another time.

"Jimmy's proving very useful to me," replied Lex, tightening his grip on Oliver's hair and causing the young hero to wince in pain. "And let's just say he proved less resistant than waterboy to my methods of persuasion."

"Look Lex, you've got me. That's what you want, isn't it? To have me as your prisoner? There's no need to involve anyone else in this – it's between us, just like it's always been." As Oliver spoke the words he knew it was pointless, but he felt compelled to do something, anything, to prevent the nightmare that now threatened to engulf his friends, just as it had engulfed him.

"Sorry, Oliver, but when your friends attacked this building they signed their own death warrants," continued Lex, relishing the power he had over his captive. "But don't worry – you'll see them before they die. You'll see their pain, the fear in their eyes as they face death, their screams of agony – I want you to see it all. And you'll be powerless to stop it, Oliver – the Green Arrow, the leader who couldn't protect his team. How's that for an epitaph, eh?"

"You're sick, Lex, do you know that? A sick son-of-a bitch!"

Lex let go of Oliver's hair, pushing the young man's head downward as he did so. He looked across at Thomas and Carter, signalling that the next phase in his drama was about to unfold.

"Dr Thomas, it's time to give our friend here a shot of something to calm him down – I don't want him to get too excited when his friends arrive."

Oliver looked up at Lex, and then across at Thomas, who was approaching him with a syringe. Realising that he was about to be drugged in some way, he started to struggle, but the grip of his captors was too strong; within seconds Thomas has pierced the flesh of his right arm with the point of the needle, and Oliver could only watch as the contents of the syringe slowly drained into his body.

"Don't worry Oliver – it's just a muscle relaxant, nothing more," said Lex, his tone now matter-of-fact. "I want you to be conscious when your friends arrive – after all, you wouldn't want to miss the fun, now would you?"

As Lex spoke Oliver could feel the effects of the drug rapidly sweeping through his body. Muscles that had once been strong and responsive now fell limp and useless; within seconds he was reduced to little more than a rag doll, held upright only by the firm grip of his captors.

"Carter, string him up and gag him."

Oliver felt himself being lifted up from the ground. The drug had reached his head now; his brain was spinning, and he was finding it difficult to focus. There were sounds – the sound of an engine motor starting, of voices, of tape being torn from a roll, but he could not process the information or make sense of it. He could feel his arms being lifted, hands roughly manhandling him before he felt himself being lifted still further into the air. He tried to focus, to understand what was happening, but it was all too much. The drug, the beating, the terrible realisation that all he'd hoped for was nothing more than a fantasy – all combined to overwhelm him. He closed his eyes, seeking some respite from the horror in the darkness of a waking sleep.

Their work done, Carter, Thomas and the guards left the cage. Lex remained, staring up at Oliver's body, now hanging a foot or so off the ground. The manacles that had been used to shackle his hands together were now fixed to a hook hanging down from the roof above, stretching his well-muscled arms upwards and leaving him suspended like a carcass of meat in a slaughterhouse. Oliver's head lolled lifelessly forward, resting on the leather of the tunic that covered his chest. His face was partially obscured, but Lex could see the strip of duct tape that had been placed carefully over Oliver's mouth; enough to prevent him from crying out a warning to his would be rescuers, but not so secure that it would be impossible to pull away by someone attempting a rescue. A hero in distress – the perfect bait, for the perfect trap.

Lex was satisfied. Everything was as he had envisaged it, all aspects of the plan that was about to unfold planned down to the last detail. He turned and made his way towards the door to the cage, taking care to leave it wide open as he passed through it – he didn't want anything to impede the progress of his unwitting victims as they made their way stupidly into his web.

He glanced at his watch, the display informing him that it was 10:50.

Ten minutes to zero hour.

Ten minutes before the Justice League embarked on a mission that would be their last.

* * *

I promised you an Ollie chapter, and here it is. Can it get any darker for him? You know it can! Lots of drama and angst to come in the next few chapters, and some Chlollie too!

Next week's update might be a day or so later than normal, as I'm really busy at the moment. As always, I want to say a massive thanks to all those who are taking the time to review - I love to hear what you think, and without feedback writing fic can feel very lonely at times. Please keep reviewing!

I have to say that I am **SO** nervous about the season finale next week. There is a very real chance that Ollie could die - the thought of no more Green Arrow is just too depressing for words! I am hoping against hope that he and Chloe survive - wouldn't Season Nine be great with the two of them teaming up with Clark? Let's hope we're celebrating their survival in a week's time, and not mourning the fact that we'll never see them on our screens again.

I'm making myself more worried writing about it! Let's all hope the Arrow makes it to next year!


	24. Chapter 24: One Down

**NOTE: At the end of this chapter there will be spoilers for the Season Eight finale.**

**Chapter Twenty Four: One down....**

_Drink it! Please God, make him drink it!_

Jimmy stood in the control room of the penthouse, the perspiration on his forehead glistening in the green light that bathed everything in its warm glow. In front of him a bank of monitors hummed reassuringly, their displays showing a mixture of live feed and detailed building schematics. The full resources of Queen Industries were being brought to bear for the latest mission of the Justice League; satellites were beaming information about every aspect of the LuthorCorp building straight into their control center, updating them every second about the slightest movement around the perimeter that the guys were about to breach. Everything appeared as if it were going like clockwork, but Jimmy was oblivious to the technology that the friends he was about to betray believed would keep them one step ahead; he only had eyes for the untouched glass that sat on the desk in front of the screens, and the young man dressed in red who sat beside it.

"This sucks, Jimmy, do you know that?" said Bart, his back to Jimmy as he sat slumped in a chair in front of the screens, his feet propped up on the desk. "Mainframe and the Fish always get the best gigs, leaving me to mind the store. Back-up! As if they're gonna need it! They get to kick ass whilst we get to sit on ours. It's not right, amigo, and I'm telling you – when this is over there's gonna be some changes round here, big time."

Jimmy did not respond, but instead continued to look at the glass which sat next to Bart on the desk. He'd brought it in fifteen minutes ago, but the young man had shown no signs of drinking from it. He'd known this wouldn't work – why hadn't they listened it him! He'd put the drug in the drink as Lex had told him to do, and according to the plan that he was now a reluctant participant in Bart should now be sleeping soundly, unable to warn Victor and AC of the danger that very soon would be closing in on them. But – typically – Bart refused to do what he was meant to do, and still sat, alert and focused, in front of the screens that would very soon show Lex's men moving into position to capture his friends.

Jimmy looked at his watch.

10:50.

Ten minutes to the start of the operation. The others had left an hour before, each one prepared for the mission to come. They suspected nothing, of course – why should they? AC had been full of bravado, as always pumped up before going on a mission. Victor was more serious, but still exuded the confidence of a man who knew his role and expected nothing to get in his way. And Chloe – well, Chloe had looked excited, but nervous too. It was clear that she expected the rescue of Patient 29 to be the breakthrough that she had been looking for, and it broke Jimmy's heart to watch her as she descended in the elevator, oblivious of the fate that awaited her. Would Lex honour his word? Would he really leave her unharmed? He feared the worst, but there was nothing he could do now – he was trapped. If he betrayed Lex then he would surely kill him, and Chloe too – at least this way there was a chance of happiness, of achieving the future with Chloe that this entire nightmare was designed to achieve.

10:51.

Jimmy could feel his shirt sticking uncomfortably to his back as the sweat continued to pour from him. There wasn't much time left now – soon he would have to do something, or everything would be lost....

"Impulse, do you read me?"

Victor's voice sounded clearly through the chamber.

"Loud and clear, Cyborg," replied Bart.

"Moving into position now."

"No problem – negative on hostiles."

The communicator fell silent; to maintain operational security, the guys had decided to keep transmissions to a minimum.

"And so there he goes to kick some Lex butt," said Bart, watching as a bright dot of light appeared on one of the schematics, moving rapidly towards one of the entrances to the LuthorCorp building.

The operation was under way.

For a few moments all was silent, with just the hum of the computers to accompany the flashing light that represented Victor as he moved into position for the 23 00 hours start time. But then suddenly Bart's attention was caught by the sight of five other dots of light, apparently converging on Victor's position.

"Whoa! Man, we got some trouble here," said Bart, removing his feet from the desk and sitting upright as he studied the rapidly developing situation unfold in front of him on the screen. It was instantly clear what was happening – Victor had company, and it was moving in fast.

"Jimmy, do you see this? This is bad man, really bad. I need to tell...."

Bart's words were cut short by a heavy blow to the back of his skull. The young hero slumped forward, unconscious; behind him a breathless Jimmy stood motionless for a moment, the barbell from Oliver's gym which he had used to knock out the unsuspecting teenager still clasped tightly in his hand. His heart pumping strongly in his chest, Jimmy looked at Bart's prostrate form, knowing that now he had passed the point of no return – there could be no going back now, no confession to his new-found friends, or appeal to their mercy. The unconscious body of Bart Allen meant that he was committed to Lex – for good or ill.

At last finding the presence of mind to move, he placed the barbell on the floor, before taking Bart under the arms and dragging him from his chair. He laid him on the floor, propping him up against the wall before searching for a pulse. For one terrible second he could not find it, his heart missing a beat as he thought that perhaps he had killed him; but eventually the regular throbbing of a strong pulse confirmed that the young man was still very much alive.

Jimmy stood up, before glancing at the screens. Victor was in position for the mission, but so were his would-be attackers, hidden and out-of-sight. Lex's plan was back on track – it was time for him to follow his next instruction.

He pulled out his cell phone and called the number that he had been given by Lex the previous day.

"It's done. You can come up now."

* * *

Akunin felt a frisson of excitement as she stepped from the elevator into the penthouse, closely followed by two LuthorCorp security men. The destruction of Oliver Queen had become almost an obsession for her, and to step inside his home in some way felt like another triumph, another way of violating the life that she and Lex had so mercilessly stolen from him. The penthouse was all that she had expected it to be; casual, stylish, the very essence of what the society magazines would expect of the home of one of the country's most eligible bachelors. The home of a playboy, predictable in all but one respect – the glow of green that emanated from a room off to her left. Akunin's eyes were quickly drawn to it, her heart beating slightly faster as she realised that she was looking at what must be the center of Oliver's double life, the operations room for his alter ego, the Green Arrow. It was a moment to relish, a moment to remember – and a moment that she would use to taunt her captive when Lex's latest game had run its course, and Oliver was once more left to her very particular form of care.

As she looked Jimmy appeared in the entrance, his face a picture of anxiety.

"In here," he said quietly, turning his head and looking back into the room from which he had just emerged.

Akunin said nothing, but began to walk purposefully towards the open doors, followed by her men. On arrival at the room she quickly took in the scene; the unconscious figure of Bart Allen, lying propped up against a wall, the banks of computer screens, the array of bows displayed elegantly off to the right. The home of the Green Arrow – and soon to be the place from where his precious team would be sent to their doom.

"Tie him up," she said, her tone one of calm efficiency. As her men began to bind Bart, Akunin stepped forward towards the monitors, examining the displays that showed the location of Victor and the unseen welcoming committee.

"So Cyborg is in position," she continued, not looking at the hapless figure of Jimmy, who now stood at her side.

"Yes.... yes – he's in position."

Akunin could hear the tremor in Jimmy's voice. She felt utter contempt for the young man who was so pivotal to Lex's plans; to her he personified the weakness in men that she loathed. Oliver was different – strong and dignified, he was a real challenge for a woman like Akunin. Olsen, on the other hand, was driven by his own selfish needs to betray the people he called his friends – the sort of man who Akunin despised. For now she knew that she must tolerate him, but in time she knew that Lex would cease to have a use for Jimmy Olsen – and then she would take pleasure in breaking his traitorous little neck.

"And Cyborg is unaware of the location of my squad?"

"He suspects nothing – I promise you."

"You've done well, Olsen – very well indeed. Mr Luthor will be pleased."

"Just as long as no harm comes to Chloe – that's all I'm interested in."

"How could you do this, Jimmy? How could you betray us like this?"

The sound of Bart Allen's voice, angry and confused, cut through the calm of the chamber. Both Akunin and Jimmy turned, to find Bart staring up at them from the floor, his face filled with a rage that made Jimmy almost physically shrink from its intensity. The young hero was tightly bound, both hand and foot; the guards had taken particular care to secure his legs so that escape was impossible. He was immobilised, but the power of his glare was so strong that it seemed to cut straight through Jimmy, as sure as any knife. For the first time the young photographer was coming face to face with the consequences of his betrayal – and the experience left him feeling physically sick.

"Is he paying you, is that what it is? So how much did you get for selling us out, Jimmy? How much do you get for betraying your friends?"

"No, no – there's no money, none at all. It's just...." Jimmy's weak protestations sounded hollow and pathetic, even to the man that uttered them.

"You're a piece of shit, do you know that Olsen? A worthless little shit. And when I get out of this I swear I'm going to..."

"That's enough!" Akunin's command, said with the force of a woman who was used to be being obeyed, momentarily silenced Jimmy. She had enjoyed allowing Bart to say his piece, to watch Jimmy wither under the penetrating fire of his former friend, but it was time to bring it to an end – the next phase of the operation was just seconds away.

"Get him up!"

The guards did as they were told, grabbing Bart by the arms and dragging him to his feet. Akunin stood before him, her mouth twisted into a contemptuous smile.

"Bart Allen, aka Impulse. The file was right about you – you really are nothing more than a street punk, aren't you? Leather boy really did scrape the bottom of the barrel when he recruited you to his little band of freaks."

"Yeah? Well I guess Lex found you online – at psychobitches dot com."

The speed of Bart's response, as well as its content, angered Akunin. In a split second her arm shot out and she grabbed Bart around the neck, her hand squeezing his windpipe with the practised expertise of a woman who knew how to inflict pain, and even death.

"You know that mouth of yours has got you into trouble for the last time, kid," she said, her voice laced with restrained venom. She continued to press down on his throat, denying Bart access to the oxygen that he needed to survive. As the seconds passed the teenager's complexion began to change color, his eyes widening as he started to panic. He started to struggle, but Akunin's grip, as well as those of the guards that held his arms, was unrelenting.

"Watchtower, do you read me? Come in Watchtower."

Victor's voice sounded clearly across the room.

For a moment Akunin did not react, but continued to squeeze Bart's throat, watching as the life force continued to drain from him as slowly he was starved of oxygen. Then she released her grip, leaving Bart to gasp for air as he desperately tried to fill his lungs.

"We'll have to finish this another time," said Akunin, before she backhanded Bart across the face. The young hero's head whipped to the side from the force of the blow, before falling downwards, apparently lifeless.

"Take him to the car – and watch him, understand? If he escapes you'll have me to answer to."

As the two guards dragged the unconscious figure of Bart from the room, Akunin turned to Jimmy.

"Answer him – and remember, no tricks. If you try to double-cross us then both you and Chloe will die."

Jimmy's eyes widened, the threat that had been unspoken now out in the open. Without speaking, he sat down in front of the console, before opening a channel to Victor.

"Cyborg, this is Watchtower. Come in, please."

There was a moment's pause, as if Victor was uncertain as to how to react to the sound of Jimmy's voice.

"Sidekick, is that you?"

"Affirmative – Impulse is....busy."

A sigh could be heard at the other end of the line. Jimmy instantly understood what Victor was thinking – Bart had gone off to fix himself some food and chill out on the couch, leaving Jimmy to monitor the operation.

"Any sign of hostiles?"

"None – you are clear to proceed."

"Affirmative – I'm going in."

The line went dead. Jimmy glanced at the clock display in the corner of the computer monitor.

23:00.

"And so it begins," said Akunin, placing a hand on Jimmy's shoulder. "One down – two to go."

* * *

First of all, time to celebrate - **OLLIE AND CHLOE SURVIVED THE SEASON EIGHT FINALE**! I am **SO **happy - with all the talk of deaths and how Chloe and Ollie have developed in recent episodes I was convinced one of them would die. The fact that both have survived is amazing - I just hope that both are around for a lot of episodes next season. Lets have old Ollie back, and who knows, maybe we'll even get some Chlollie!

I felt so sad for Jimmy, though - I feel guilty now for the way I've portrayed him in this story! Still, I can't go back and change things now - in my world Jimmy is a weasel, and for the time being that's how he will stay.

Hope you liked this chapter - as you can see, we're entering another action phase. Lots more to come - I'm planning a level of angst that will blow you all away! Thanks so much to all you wonderful reviewers - you know how much your comments mean to me, do please keep giving me feedback!

Next week's update could be a little late, but expect it Saturday or Sunday.


	25. Chapter 25: A Discovery

**Chapter Twenty Five: A Discovery**

"_You are clear to proceed."_

Jimmy's words, coming through his earpiece loud and clear, provided the confirmation that Victor had been waiting for: the mission was on. For some minutes he had crouched waiting in the shadow of a building, surveying his surroundings for any signs of LuthorCorp security. There had been none, Jimmy's transmission providing the final confirmation he required before beginning his part of the operation. His role was simple; to disable the LuthorCorp security system and provide the diversion required to allow Chloe and AC to penetrate the secret levels of the building and find the mysterious Patient 29. As he got to his feet he could not help but smile at the thought of what he and the guys were about to inflict on Lex – a second humiliation in under a week, right at the very heart of his operation, and this time a humiliation that would finally expose the truth about his criminal activities.

"_This one's for you, Oliver,"_ he thought to himself, checking the empty street one more time for any potential sources of danger. Satisfied that he was quite alone, he ran silently across the road to the fence that protected the rear of the LuthorCorp building. He had already identified his first objective, a small box screwed to one of the concrete fence posts. Without hesitation, he ripped the cover from the box, to reveal a spaghetti of different coloured wires. As he hacked into the perimeter security system, his cybernetic eye glowing as the cameras and alarms that monitored the fence were one by one disabled, his thoughts turned briefly to when he had performed exactly the same operation at the Ridge Facility some months before. Oliver had been by his side then, every inch the leader as they had saved Bart and taken out one of Lex's most important 33.1 operations. Now he was alone, but somehow it didn't feel like that; Victor felt as if Oliver was still with him in spirit, standing by his side and guiding him as again the League that the Green Arrow had created once more went into action.

The perimeter security system disarmed, Victor took hold of the wire fence and peeled it back as easily as if he were turning the page of a book. A quick survey of the area beyond the wire confirming that he was still unobserved, he slipped through the gap he had created and jogged lightly across to the small, square building which stood in the shadow of its larger neighbour, the corporate headquarters of LuthorCorp. The building had no windows, only a thick steel door. To the casual observer it would have appeared to be nothing more than some form of storage building, or maybe a generator room; only those with a knowledge of LuthorCorp security understood that in fact it housed the heart of the main building's security system. Victor had that knowledge, and, just as a few seconds before at the fence, he made short work of the door which was meant to withstand all comers.

On entering the building it did not take him long to identify the control panel he was looking for. His objective now was twofold; first, to disable the inner security systems that protected the core of the LuthorCorp building from attack, and second, to simulate a security breach on the fifteenth floor of the building. He'd planned everything down to the last detail, and as he once more began the process of hacking into the system he was confident that the diversion he had prepared would be sufficient to draw a majority of Lex's night security team well away from the secret area that AC and Chloe stood ready to penetrate. A few guards would remain, but they would be nothing that AC couldn't take care of; by the time Lex's men realised that they had been tricked, Chloe and AC would be well clear, hopefully with Patient 29 alive and well and ready to tell all to the authorities.

As his system connected with the LuthorCorp network he felt the familiar surge of power in his left arm as the process of data exchange began. The virus that he had prepared started to download onto Lex's servers, ready to wreak havoc on the systems that protected the Luthor empire. It was a process he had undertaken many times before, and for a few seconds all appeared normal. Then, without warning, a sudden surge of energy shot down the wire that connected Victor to the network. Victor was thrown backwards with huge force, hitting a wall before falling to the ground. For a split second he lay stunned and unmoving, before his body began to spasm uncontrollably. Seized by panic, his brain tried to make sense of what had happened, but he found it difficult to focus; a sharp, stabbing pain repeatedly pulsed through his head, blinding in its intensity and adding to his sense of helplessness.

_A trap!_

Somewhere in his mind that terrible realisation forced itself through the pain and into his consciousness. Acting almost on instinct, he reached up to his earpiece, struggling to force the muscles in his arm to obey against the power of the convulsions that seemed to be growing in intensity with every second that passed. He could hear footsteps approaching – heavy footsteps, the footsteps of men in uniform. He knew that he had to warn the others, to tell them that they were walking into a trap....

"Sidekick, do you read me?.....Jimmy.....it's a trap! Warn the others – get them out of there!"

As Victor gasped his words of warning he became aware of three men standing over him. He looked up, to find the familiar sight of LuthorCorp uniforms, and guns trained on him. For a split second he made eye contact with one of the guards, his face fixed and apparently emotionless.

How had they known? How had they known he was coming?

There was the sound of a shot, and simultaneously Victor felt a tranquiliser dart impacting on the side of his neck. As the drug quickly spread through his body, slowly easing him towards unconsciousness, he listened for Jimmy's reply to his warning, the acknowledgement that would reassure him that the mission would be aborted, and that AC and Chloe would be safe.

There was none – only silence.

* * *

"_Sidekick, do you read me?.....Jimmy.....it's a trap! Warn the others – get them out of there!"_

As Victor's desperate words filled the control room at Oliver's penthouse Jimmy could only stare dumbly at the monitor in front of him. His face ashen, he watched as Akunin's team moved in to apprehend their helpless prey; even had he wanted to respond to Victor's plea he would not have been able to, his mouth bone dry from anxiety. Lex's plan was playing out just as he had expected it to, and one by one the Justice League were falling into his hands. What had he done! It all seemed too terrible for words, that these young heroes should become the captives of someone as pitiless as Lex Luthor, and that he, Jimmy Olsen, should have been so instrumental in making this horror a reality. He wished that he could wake from this nightmare, to discover that none of it was true – but Akunin's presence at his side confirmed that this was all too real. Worse still, the most terrible act of betrayal was yet to come...

The emotions of the woman who stood next to Jimmy could not have been more different. Akunin was in her element, orchestrating a plan that she had prepared down to the finest detail. Everything was going like clockwork, and she could not help but think of what lay ahead once all of the Green Arrow's freaks were in captivity; how she would use them against Oliver, force him to abase himself before her as they watched, before finally she would execute them, one by one, as he stood by, helpless and broken.

"Beta Leader to Alpha One, come in, please." The voice of the man assigned to capture Cyborg sounded in Akunin's earpiece.

"Report, Beta Leader."

"Target is in custody. I repeat, target is in custody."

"Good work, Beta Leader. Secure the target as directed. Out."

Confirmation that Cyborg had been captured caused a smile to form on Akunin's lips. She had taken particular delight in designing the trap that had taken down Victor; so used to being able to hack into any computer system at will, what a surprise he must have got to find that on this occasion it was he whose systems were to be infected with a virus, not the other way round. The net was tightening around the League, and all that remained now was to ensnare AC and Chloe. Akunin felt a tinge of regret that she would not be present to witness the climax to the operation; Lex had reserved that honour to himself, and if all went to plan the moment of capture would indeed be a moment to savour. She consoled herself with the knowledge of all the games she would be able to play with her handsome new toys, how she and Lex would break their insolent spirits with torture and degradation.

"It's time – you know what to do."

Akunin's words sent a shudder down Jimmy's spine. It really _was_ time – time for the greatest act of betrayal, and the one that he had looked forward to with the greatest dread. His hand trembling, he reached forward to open a comlink with the two members of the League who remained free – and utterly oblivious to the terrible fate that had already befallen their friends.

"Aquaman," he began, his voice barely audible. "The security system is down, and you are cleared to proceed."

"Affirmative, Sidekick – we are going in."

AC's voice, strong and confident, sounded through the chamber, before the link went dead.

Jimmy slumped back in his chair, his heart beating fast in his chest.

The deed was done – all he could do now was to hope that Lex was as good as his word, and did not harm the woman who all this was for.

* * *

"Hey, you okay there, Watchtower?"

AC grinned reassuringly across at Chloe, who tried to reciprocate – with limited success. All she could muster was a half smile, her nerves getting the better of her as together the two of them descended in an elevator towards the subterranean world in which Lex was holding the mysterious Patient 29. She tried to reassure herself that so far everything had gone according to plan; since receiving the all clear from Jimmy to proceed a few minutes earlier they had encountered nothing unexpected. Cyborg had done his job with customary efficiency, the security systems down and the majority of the LuthorCorp security team nowhere to be seen. The diversion he had put together was working well, and AC had made short work of the two guards they had encountered at the entrance to the elevator. Still she felt anxious – there was something about going underground, of having so few possible lines of escape, that made her feel profoundly uncomfortable. What would they find in Lex's secret world? What horrors was he up to down here? She could not help but think of Lex's prisoner, the man they hoped to rescue – had he descended to his prison in this very elevator? How desperate he must have felt, to be in the hands of someone as brutal and merciless as Lex, and to be plunged into a nightmarish world of experiments and imprisonment. Her mood darkened, her sense of purpose strengthened – Lex had been allowed to get away with his crimes for far too long, and now she and the guys would finally bring him down, send him to the prison where he belonged.

She looked across at AC, who stood studying the display which methodically recorded their floor by floor descent. Dressed in the orange and green of his Aquaman costume, he appeared supremely confident, seemingly unconcerned about the dangers that could be a matter of just seconds away. On his back was strapped a small rucksack, the contents of which would give Lex more than enough to deal with as they made their escape – enough explosive to destroy Lex's laboratory of pain for good.

The motion of the elevator began to slow, a sure sign that they were approaching their destination. Chloe could feel her heart beating faster in her chest as she watched AC brace himself to deal with whatever they might find on the other side of the elevator doors; the Queen Industries satellite was unable to penetrate to this depth, and for all they knew they could find themselves stepping out into a corridor filled with LuthorCorp employees. The familiar sound of a tiny bell signalled their arrival, but as the doors slid back there was not the feared sight of armed guards, but instead the emptiness of a featureless corridor.

AC glanced across at Chloe, once again a smile of reassurance on his face.

"Okay, Watchtower – it's time. Any problems, just call me – meet back here in five."

With that AC bounded silently from the elevator, turning sharp left and disappearing along the corridor. Chloe felt another pang of uncertainty as she watched the young hero leave, wishing that their plan did not involve her having to separate from his reassuring presence. But the plan was set, and there was no changing it now; she was to find Patient 29, whilst AC set the explosives to destroy Lex's operation. Cautiously she too stepped into the narrow corridor, listening for a moment for any signs of life, any hint that their arrival might have been detected. There was none, and, satisfied that Cyborg's diversion had had its effect even down here, she turned right and began to make her way towards her destination.

It took her two minutes to reach it, two minutes of moving as quickly as she could along countless faceless corridors, each looking exactly the same as the others. As she slipped silently through the maze of passages she was grateful for the accuracy of Victor's schematic of the layout, and for her own diligence in committing it so carefully to memory; without such preparation it would have been all too easy to get lost in such a labyrinthine world. No sound was to be heard as she neared her target, the room on the plan which most obviously housed the prison in which the mysterious prisoner was being held; only her footsteps disturbed the eerie, airless stillness of Lex's subterranean lair.

At last she arrived, the thick steel door which confronted her confirmation that her suspicions about the room that lay beyond were right. This was a door designed for security - to secure something, someone, of immense value to the man who had constructed this hidden hell. Aware that her heart was beating still faster in her chest, she did not hesitate, but immediately placed the electronic device that Victor had given her to disable the lock next to the keypad that was located to the right of the door. In less than a second an indicator light flashed green, and there was the sound of a lock mechanism moving.

This was it – the moment of revelation. Beyond this door Chloe knew that she might find the key to bringing down Lex for good, the evidence she required to fulfil Oliver's mission. Her hands trembled as she took hold of the handle.....

As the door swung slowly open Chloe found herself confronted by a large, almost empty room, brightly illuminated by lights which hung high above. Her eyes were drawn immediately to the center of the room, and the large cage which stood there, its highly polished bars glinting in the light.

But it was not the cage which caused her heart to miss a beat, before it seemed to leap into her throat. Her eyes widened, the moisture leeching from her mouth as she tried to take in the sight that now held her transfixed.

For a moment she thought she was hallucinating. She stood, stupefied, seeing, but not daring to believe.

But this was no illusion.

There, hanging suspended in the center of the cage and unmistakable in the leathers of the Green Arrow, hung the lifeless form of the man whose life and supposed death had transformed her beyond all recognition.

"Oliver!" she gasped.

* * *

The moment so many of you have been waiting for - Chloe has found Ollie! So now they'll escape, Lex will be put behind bars and our favorite couple will live happily ever after.....just kidding! Lots of Chlollie to come, but you just know I'm going to put them through all sorts of angst, don't you? The next few chapters will be intense - in fact if everything goes according to plan chapter twenty eight will be the most intense chapter I've ever written....

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing. PLEASE do keep the reviews coming - even just a few words of encouragement have the power to make all the time I invest in writing seem worthwhile! Next week's update should be on time - in the meantime let's continue to celebrate that we're going to see both Chloe and Ollie in Season Nine!


	26. Chapter 26: The Justice League are mine!

**Chapter Twenty Six: The Justice League are Mine!**

"Oliver!"

Chloe stood motionless at the entrance to the chamber, overwhelmed by the sight that met her eyes. All sense of her surroundings, all awareness of the dangers that she faced, seemed to disappear in an instant as she struggled to make sense of what she was seeing. _Oliver was alive!_ How many times had she dreamt of a moment like this since AC had broken the news of his death all those days ago now? How often had the thought that it was all a terrible mistake, that Oliver was about to return to her, forced itself into the forefront of her mind? She'd fantasised so many times about his return, of how he would suddenly emerge from the elevator of the penthouse, that effortless smile on his handsome face telling her it was all okay, that the nightmare was over, and that it really had all just been a bad dream. Those fantasies had been so exquisitely painful in those first terrible days after he'd been taken from her, but with every hour that past, every day that slipped away, she'd forced herself to accept the truth, consigned those hopes and dreams to the exile of her sub consciousness. She had reconciled herself to his loss, translated her grief into a determination to honour his legacy by bringing to justice his nemesis. But now...._now it was if the world had turned upside down_! That wonderful fantasy, simultaneously both agonising and beautiful, was fantasy no more:

_Oliver is alive!_

Her heart soared at the sound of those words echoing inside her head. The shock was fading quickly now, to be replaced by a myriad of questions, concerns, and anxieties. But they would have to wait – all Chloe could think of was to bring salvation to the hero whose miraculous resurrection could not now be denied. Swept forward on a tsunami of emotion, she found herself running towards Oliver's helpless form, all caution and restraint abandoned in her overwhelming need to be near him, to offer him the comfort that had been denied to him for all those long days in captivity. Reason was powerless against the rawness of her passion, of her joy; she did not hesitate as she passed through the open door to the cage, did not stop to question why so valuable a prisoner had been left unguarded, unsecured. All she could think of was the welfare of the man who she now looked up at, hanging unmoving from the shackles that secured him to a hook which dangled from the ceiling. His head rested lifelessly on his chest, but Chloe could just make out the features of his face beneath the familiar shock of blond hair, and the single strip of duct tape that had been cruelly smeared across his lips. Tears welled up in her eyes as she saw once more the handsome features that had stolen her heart. He looked so peaceful, his eyes closed as if he were sleeping; the tranquillity of the scene only served to heighten her awareness of the torments that he must have endured at the hands of Lex. All those days a prisoner – how had he survived? How had he coped with the torture, the humiliation, the sense of utter hopelessness, a feeling that rescue would never come? It was all too unbearable to contemplate, and, the tears now streaming down her face, she reached forward and wrapped her arms around Oliver's waist, pulling him towards her and allowing her face to nestle against the smooth leather that covered his finely toned abdominal muscles.

"Oh, Oliver!" she sobbed quietly. "It's okay. I'm here – you're safe now, I promise."

_He's not moving!_

Chloe was suddenly seized by a panic which seemed to attach itself to her heart and mind with vice-like intensity. Why is he not moving? She looked upwards, hoping to see some sign of life, some flicker of response to her touch, but there was none. Desperately she reached upwards, her tiny hands clawing at his leathers as she vainly searched for the movement that would quell the terror that was taking hold of her.

_I'm too late!_ _Oh dear God, I'm too late!_

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she shook Oliver's lifeless form. She cried out his name, again and again, oblivious to any risk of discovery; it didn't matter, nothing else mattered, as long as Oliver was alive. But his body refused to respond to her pleas, nor to her increasingly frantic touch. Could it really be that after everything they had been through, all that he must have suffered, that he was to be taken from her just at the moment of salvation? Was life really so unutterably cruel? She could not believe it – she would not believe it! He had to be alive – he just had to be.

_I must get him down._

The need to bring Oliver's tortured body to rest at once consumed her. She needed to hold him, to cradle him – to bring him back from the hell to which Lex had consigned him. If she could only caress him, place her lips tenderly against his, then surely he would awaken – wouldn't he? Looking through tear-filled eyes, she could see instantly that he was chained up securely, so much so that it would be impossible for her to bring him to earth alone. She needed help....

Still staring up at Oliver's face, so terrifyingly still and unmoving, she tapped her earpiece.

"Aquaman, I need you," she sobbed. "Come quickly, AC – it's Oliver. I've found Oliver!"

Emotionally exhausted, she did not wait for a reply before cutting the com-link. Still Oliver did not move, despite Chloe almost physically willing the young man to show some sign of life. Her mind succumbing to the awful realisation that perhaps she was indeed too late, and that the fates truly had conspired against them one last and devastating time, she fell to her knees, overcome by the horror of the moment.

It was then that she saw it – a small device, no larger than a remote control for a television. Instinctively Chloe reached out and took it in her hand. She did not know how, but as soon as she held it she knew that this was the hope that she had been searching for, the means to her achieving the goal of releasing Oliver from his plight. Pointing it upwards towards the chains that held Oliver above the floor, she began to press the buttons on the handset. At first nothing happened, and for a moment she thought that once more her luck had deserted her, until on pressing the seventh or eighth button there was the sound of an engine coming to life. Her eyes widened, as, slowly but inexorably, Oliver's limp and unmoving form at last began to be lowered towards the ground.

Briefly taken aback by her unexpected success, Chloe then leapt to her feet to cradle the body of her lover as he slipped towards the ground. Gently she guided him safely downwards, like some emergency worker tending to a victim after some terrible disaster, keen to avoid any sudden movement that might injure still further an already critically ill casualty. At last she brought him to rest, kneeling down and supporting him tenderly in her arms, his head resting gently in her lap.

Switching off the engine, silence once more filled the chamber as Chloe looked down at Oliver's face. He looked so peaceful, so beautiful – could it really be that she was too late, that this wonderful, funny, generous, good hearted man had not survived to experience the joy of this reunion? Fearing the worst, but hoping, praying, for the best, she felt for a pulse.....

_He's alive!_

The relief that Chloe felt at that moment could not ever be put into words. _He was alive!_ The nightmare was over, and all that she had dreamt about, the future that she and Oliver would share together, all those dreams would now become a reality. They would be together, and this time she would never let him go, never let him put himself in danger ever again. Tears of happiness flowing down her cheeks, she cupped his face in her hands, before, with the tenderness of a lover, she slowly, delicately, peeled away the strip of duct tape that had been pressed down over his lips. Then, her heart filled with a heady mixture of joy, relief and overpowering love, she leaned down and placed her lips against his, her kiss consummating the rebirth of a love that she thought she had lost forever.

When at last she pulled away a smile danced on her lips, the sort of natural smile that had once come so easily to her but which had disappeared since news of Oliver's supposed death had caused the bottom to fall out of her world. But those terrible memories were now part of a fast fading past – now she could only think of the future that she thought had been stolen from her. Another chance for happiness – could anyone in the world be as happy as she felt at that moment?

And then it came – what she had hoped for, what she had longed to see. As she watched Oliver's eyelids flickered, before opening fully.

For an instant the two stared into each other's eyes, neither truly believing that after all they had been through, this moment had arrived.

"Chloe!" he gasped.

* * *

"_Come quickly, AC – it's Oliver. I've found Oliver!"_

Chloe's words – garbled, overwrought, desperate – stopped AC in his tracks. _Oliver was alive!_ How was that possible? For a split second he thought that he must have misheard her, that the comlink was malfunctioning in some way. But his ears had not deceived him – Chloe had said she'd found Oliver. It seemed too incredible for words, but he knew that he did not have time to waste – there would be time for explanations later. Chloe needed him – hell, Oliver needed him – and there wasn't a moment to lose.

Quickly setting the timer on the explosive device he'd just planted, he turned and ran down the corridor in the direction of the prison where he knew Chloe must be. He calculated that he could only be about a minute away from her location, so long as he encountered no unexpected obstacles.

He was to be disappointed.

Turning a corner, AC was brought to an abrupt halt by the sight of two men barring his way. One he recognised immediately as Carter, Lex's Head of Security who he'd met on his previous visit to the LuthorCorp building. The other he did not know, but the lab coat suggested that he was a part of whatever twisted scientific operation Lex was orchestrating in his hidden world.

"Well, well, look who's come to call," sneered Carter, levelling a gun at AC. "You know last time I wasn't ready for you, Aquaman – this time I've come prepared."

AC became aware of movement behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, to find three LuthorCorp guards approaching down the corridor towards him, their guns pointed in his direction. He was cornered – and he knew it.

"Get your hands up, pretty boy," ordered Carter, clearly enjoying turning the tables on the young hero who had humiliated him days earlier. AC said nothing, but slowly complied, his features fixed in a picture of grim determination.

"Now the doc here has got a shot that is going to put you to sleep – just long enough for you to dry out a bit. I hope that you're going to be a good little boy and cooperate – Mr Luthor doesn't like it when his guests cause trouble."

"Yeah? Well I guess I'm just gonna have to disappoint him – I hate needles."

Before Carter had time to respond AC had spun round and driven his fist into the gut of the guard nearest to him. It was a crippling blow which sent the man flying into the corridor wall, before he slid lifeless to the floor. AC did not pause for breath; empowered by the effects of the shower he had taken before starting the mission, he was physically stronger than all his adversaries combined. A roundhouse kick sent the second guard flying backwards and into the third; they collapsed together onto the ground, barely having time to recover before AC's fist connected with their jaws and sent them into the realms of unconsciousness.

"Enough!"

Carter's voice brought AC's moment of victory to an abrupt end. He looked up, to find Carter just a few feet away, the gun in his hand trained expertly at his head.

"Lex wants you alive, you piece of shit, but if you give me any more trouble then so help me I'll put a bullet in you here and now, do you understand?"

AC could see the hatred burning in Carter's eyes; it was clear that he was prepared to make good on his threat. Slowly, reluctantly, he got to his feet, turning and standing defiantly as he faced his captor.

"That's better. Now, get your hands up!"

Once again AC complied, realising as he did so that this all must have been part of some elaborate trap. Lex's men had known they were coming, Carter had known exactly where to find him – but how? And what about the others? Had they been captured? His gut turned over as the terrible realisation that he and the others had been the victims of a perfectly executed sting slowly dawned on him.

The doctor approached AC, a syringe poised in his hand. Without a word he plunged the needle into AC's neck, causing the young man to wince in pain.

"You think that hurts, pretty boy? You just wait until you wake up – I've got something real special planned for you."

Carter's words barely registered with AC as the powerful drug swept through his body. In seconds he slumped to the floor, his muscles losing all sense of feeling as he drifted into unconsciousness.

It was all over in under ten seconds. Carter stepped forward and with his foot rolled the lifeless body of the young man over onto his back, satisfying himself that he was indeed out for the count.

"Aquaman is neutralised," he said into his comlink.

The stage was set for the last act of the drama.

* * *

"_Chloe!"_

Oliver couldn't quite believe what his eyes were telling him. Was he still asleep? Was this some kind of dream? He felt so weak, so terribly weak, and his mind was foggy, a jumble of thoughts struggling to form themselves into some sort of order. This had to be another trick, the effect of one of Lex's drugs.......

"Oliver! It's me – it's Chloe. You're safe now – I promise!"

_That voice!_ Had a voice ever sounded so beautiful in all the world! His mind clearing, Oliver's heart leapt with an inexpressible joy as he realised that this was no dream – it really was Chloe who now stared down at him, tears staining her cheeks as she smiled that smile that would melt even the hardest of hearts. He could smell her now, her scent filling his nostrils and reawakening memories of the times they had shared together, the moments of intimacy that had seemed lost to him forever. And her touch – _her touch!_ Her hand was stroking his face, delicately, tenderly, as if in an instant she had the power to take away all the pain, all the terror of what he had endured......

_Lex!_

Oliver's few precious seconds of happiness were suddenly swept aside by a single memory – the memory of his last encounter with Lex. This was all a trap – and Chloe was to be its victim!

"Chloe, get out – get out of here now!" Oliver could barely speak, his words whispered but full of anxiety and fear for the woman he loved.

"Shhh – it's okay!" said Chloe reassuringly, not understanding the look of foreboding that had fallen across Oliver's features. "AC's coming – and then we're going to get you out of here."

"No! It's a trap, Chloe – the whole thing's a trap. Get out of here before it's too late!"

Chloe looked confused, but before she had time to respond a sound caused the hearts of both to miss a beat.

The clapping of a single pair of hands – slow, deliberate, mocking.

Chloe turned towards the sound, as she did so knowing full well what she would find.

She was not disappointed. There, standing just outside the entrance to the cage, stood Lex, flanked by two LuthorCorp security men. The sight of Lex's face – its features distorted by a mixture of malice, delight, and triumph – caused the colour to drain from Chloe's cheeks. In a split second everything had become all too clear to her. She had fallen into his web – and there was no way out.

"How touching – the two star-crossed lovers in a passionate embrace. Quite the Romeo and Juliet, aren't you?"

Chloe said nothing, but instead instinctively clutched Oliver closer to her chest, like a mother protecting a helpless child.

"I must say that reunion was moving – truly moving. Almost brought a tear to my eye," continued Lex, enjoying the moment. "Such a shame all your little friends couldn't be here to see it – they send their apologies, by the way, but they're a bit busy at the moment, settling into the new cells I've prepared, just for them."

So that was it – the last glimmer of hope extinguished. Chloe's gut turned over as she realised that Lex had cast his net wide, and that for all she knew all the guys were now in captivity.

"Well, much as I hate to break up such a beautiful couple, I think it's time we all got some sleep, don't you? I've got so much planned for you all, and I want you both wide awake for the little games we're going to play. So, say your farewells – at least for now."

Chloe looked down at Ollie, his head still cradled in her arms. Their eyes met, and for a second a myriad of unspoken emotions passed between them – desperation, compassion, fear, uncertainty, and a thousand others. But there was one word which both felt they had to say, for fear that they might never get a chance to say it to each other ever again.

"I love you," whispered Oliver, a single tear welling up in the corner of his eye.

"I love you too," said Chloe, leaning down and gently placing a kiss on his lips.

There was the sound of something being fired, and suddenly Oliver felt Chloe's body slump forward, lifeless and unmoving. There was the sound of footsteps, and then he felt Chloe's body being dragged away. He tried to resist, to hold on to her for as long as he could, but he was too weak; a casual kick from Lex's shoe sent him rolling helplessly on to his back.

Lex knelt down beside him, eager to rub salt into Oliver's physical and emotional wounds.

"Don't worry, Oliver – I'm not going to hurt her, at least not yet. I've got so much planned for you and your little band of terrorists – it's going to make what you've been through so far seem like a walk in the park. Because I've got them all, Oliver – Aquaman, Cyborg, Impulse – they're all mine now." He paused, as if the true scale of his triumph had only then dawned on him. "How good does that sound, Oliver? The Justice League are mine!"

* * *

So it all goes from bad to worse for our heroes - you didn't expect anything else, did you? It's is all going to get very dark in the next few chapters, but at least Chloe and Ollie have found each other - I know that's what so many of you wanted to read. And don't worry - things will start to get better for the gang, just not quite yet. Still some twists and shocks to come....

Thanks to all you amazing reviewers - I love you all! Please do keep reviewing, because it really does make my day when I get a little message telling me a review has been posted. Without feedback writing can sometimes be hard - please keep inspiring me!


	27. Chapter 27: Captivity

**Chapter Twenty Seven: Captivity**

"Wake up, pretty boy – you and me got some unfinished business."

A voice, a man's voice – hard, coarse, vindictive.

And then a sharp pain, but from where? He tried to focus, to locate its source...

His cheek, the pain came from his cheek. He was being slapped, slapped hard so that he would open his eyes...

The first sensations that AC felt as he began to come round floated around his mind, a mind still struggling to deal with the effects of the powerful drug that had been used to sedate him. His thoughts were muddled, confused, but soon the memories of what had happened began to flood back, assuming a terrible order in his tired and abused brain – the mission, the planting of the charges, Chloe's desperate call about Oliver...._Oliver_! The recollection of Chloe's words loomed large in his mind as the fog in his mind began slowly to clear. Oliver was alive! He remembered vividly the sense of excitement he'd felt on hearing her words, of how he'd run to help her, only to encounter Lex's men, and then....what? He guessed he must have been drugged, because that was where his memory came to an abrupt halt.

"Wake up, you piece of shit!"

There it was – that voice again. Angrier this time. Where had he heard it before? He didn't have time to think before once again he felt the sting of a hand slapping him across the face, trying to rouse him from his drug induced slumber.

Where was he? He guessed he must be in one of Lex's prisons somewhere. His heart sank as he thought of how the others had also probably been captured, and were being held in captivity as he was. Who knows, perhaps they were in the next room, or maybe even in this room – he dared not open his eyes to find out. He wasn't ready yet, wasn't ready to face the man who even now he sensed standing before him, impatiently waiting for him to come round so that he could make good on the promise that he'd made. For AC had recognised the voice – it was that of Carter, the man he'd humiliated on his first expedition into Luthor's lair, and who had overseen his capture.... how long ago? He had no idea – it could have been minutes, hours, the drug had robbed him of all sense of the passage of time.

His head was clearer now, but still he felt exhausted. It didn't take him long to work out why every muscle in his powerful body ached, and why he felt as weak as a baby, for he had felt this way before. His strength had gone, as certainly as Samson's had disappeared when his hair had been cut away in the biblical story. They'd exploited his weakness, and dried him out; he didn't need to open his eyes to know that his body was now covered in blisters, the tell tale sign that Aquaman was at his most vulnerable. No wonder Carter was so insistent that he wake up – he knew that the young hero was now utterly powerless to defend himself.

"I know you're awake, water-boy," said Carter. "Now do as you're told – open your eyes!"

As the man spoke AC felt something hard and metallic placed against his chest. He barely had time to register the fact that the coolness of the metal tip against his skin indicated that he had been stripped of his tunic before a jolt of electricity coursed through his body, sending him into an agonising spasm. His back arched grotesquely as the volts surged through his once powerful frame, every nerve feeling as if it had been set on fire. The pain – agonising, unbearable, unrelenting – seemed to go on for an eternity, until at last he felt the metal object being removed from his flesh; released from its terrible grip, AC slumped forward, breathing hard as he tried to recover from the unexpected onslaught.

"You wide awake now, pretty boy? Guess you'd prefer a cold shower, but hey – life's a bitch!"

Blinking back the tears of pain that clouded his eyes, AC stared at the man who now held his fate in his hands. Carter stood before him, a long metallic prod in his hands and a look of malicious pleasure on his face. Instinctively he tried to free himself from whatever bonds held him in place, and it was only then that he became aware that he was hanging a foot or so off the ground. Glancing upwards, he could see that each of his wrists had been secured to a manacle hanging from the ceiling; the manacles hung some way apart from each other, leaving AC hanging in a position that made it appear as if his arms were raised in surrender.

"Don't waste your strength, spandex boy," continued Carter, anticipating the young man's thoughts. "You're not going anywhere unless I say so – and I've got plans for you, my friend."

Carter's last words sent a chill down AC's back. The man was a sadist, that much was obvious; it was equally clear that he had not forgotten how AC had humiliated him during their last encounter. The tables were now turned – and Carter wanted his revenge.

"So how did 50 000 volts feel, Curry?" continued Carter, making a show of holding the instrument of torture in his hands. "Was it good? Well let me tell you, that was just the beginning. In a minute I'm going to set this to 100 000 volts, and then we're really going to have some fun. I'm going to make you fry, boy – and then when I've finished, I'm going to smash that pretty face of yours to a pulp. How does that sound, boy? Do you like the sound of that, Mr hotshot hero?"

As Carter finished speaking he brandished the prod just a couple of inches from AC's face, allowing the electricity to crackle menacingly from the tip. He wanted to see fear in the young man's eyes – but AC wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"Where are the others?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm and strong. "What have you done with Chloe? With the Green Arrow?"

Carter smirked. "Ohh, they're just fine – don't you worry about your little teammates. And don't worry about leather boy – Lex has got the reunion to end all reunions planned for all of you. Mind you, after what I'm going to do, I don't know whether Queen will even recognise you."

He hesitated a moment, savouring the look of fear that had at last appeared in AC's eyes. He then slowly, deliberately, pressed a button on the handle of the prod, making sure that his captive understood the significance of his action.

He was ready.

"Now, pretty boy, shall we begin?"

* * *

Lex smiled as the sound of a piercing scream filled the small control room. It was a man's scream – the cry of a man enduring a torment that few could ever come close to understanding. But the scream did not originate in the room in which Lex now sat, but rather many floors below him in the secret world that he had created to hold the Green Arrow, and which now held all those who had dared to defy him. Speakers relayed the sound from the hell that he had created into the room from where Lex now surveyed his triumph, the distance in no way diminishing the raw terror of the young man's voice as he was made to suffer for his crimes. Lex leaned back in his chair, relishing the moment; not only did he have the sound of AC's torture to entertain him, but he also had the pictures too. A monitor in front of him allowed him to watch as Carter set to work on the AC, taunting and abusing him before time and again he drove the fearsome electric prod into the hero's body. Lex was utterly absorbed by the spectacle, which served as a suitable hors d'oeuvre for the main event which he had planned for later in the day.

_The Justice League are mine!_

Lex could still hardly believe that the plan he had so meticulously put together over many hours had worked so smoothly. And here they all were – _his _prisoners! Momentarily taking his eyes from the monitor which showed AC's torture, he glanced at the other three monitors, each of which showed an image of a cell. In two of them the figures of Bart Allen and Victor Stone could be seen, hanging motionless from chains fixed above them. In the third he could see Oliver, curled up on the floor of his cage, his back to the camera which had monitored him relentlessly for many days now. What must he be thinking! Lex felt a flush of excitement at the thought of how desperate Oliver must be feeling, of how as he lay there he must be thinking the worst, of how his precious team and his pretty young lover would now be used against him.

_You don't know the half of it, Oliver – what I have planned will break you as surely as night follows day, my friend._

"Sir, Jimmy Olsen is here."

Lex swung round on his seat, to find his reluctant co-conspirator flanked by two burly LuthorCorp security guards. Between them Jimmy looked even smaller than he normally did; it was as if his betrayal of his former friends had caused him to shrink physically, as well as emotionally.

"Jimmy! Sorry – I've been neglecting you, I know. But as you can see, I've been busy getting my new guests settled in their new homes."

Jimmy followed Lex's gaze back towards the monitors. The sight that greeted him made him feel sick, each of the young men who had befriended him so generously now cruelly imprisoned, the playthings of the sadist who now sat just a couple of feet away from him. _You did this, Jimmy – you betrayed them all!_ The voice inside Jimmy's head – hostile, censorious – sounded loud and clear. How on earth had it come to this? How could he ever carry on with his life now, with the blood of so many good men on his hands?

The sound of a scream shattered the relative calm of the tiny control room.

"_Please stop! I'm begging you, please – no more! I can't take any more!"_

It was AC's voice – desperate, pleading, like a whimpering, terrified child. As Jimmy watched, the colour draining from his cheeks, Carter responded to the man's cry for mercy by thrusting the prod into the young man's side, causing another scream to burst from his mouth.

It was too much for Jimmy, who placed his hand against the wall to steady himself as he felt his legs begin to go from under him.

"Turn it off. Please – turn it off!" Jimmy's whispered request caused Lex to look at him for a moment, before he reached for a switch and cut the sound feed from AC's cell.

"You shouldn't be so squeamish, Jimmy – these men are terrorists, remember. I'm just showing them the true meaning of justice, that's all."

"Where's Chloe?" Jimmy asked, eager to reassure himself about her safety and get out of there as quickly as possible.

"She's safe – I gave you my word that I wouldn't harm her, and I meant it."

"How long will you keep her? How long do you need to treat her with those memory drugs you talked about?"

"I'm sorry, Jimmy, but the treatment could take longer than I originally anticipated. But she's quite safe – I promise you."

Once again Lex was changing the terms of their agreement. Jimmy cursed himself – how could he ever have been so stupid as to trust a viper like this? But there was nothing he could do – not about about this, not about any of it. He was as trapped as the young men who now hung like animals waiting to be slaughtered on the monitors before him.

"Then I need to get out of here – I can't take this anymore."

Lex looked at Jimmy, a strange smile forming on his lips.

"I'm afraid I can't allow that, Jimmy."

Lex's words, said in a tone so deceptively calm and reassuring, caused Jimmy's heart to miss a beat.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice quivering in expectation of what Lex might have in store for him.

"You're a nervous wreck, Jimmy – surely you can see that," continued Lex, his voice now suffused with feigned concern. "I just can't risk you wandering around out there and losing control – I'm sure you understand."

"Wha..." Jimmy opened his mouth to protest, only to find the hand of one of Lex's men clamped down hard on it. He struggled to speak, but it was impossible; all he could do was flay around uselessly as the man proceeded to pin one of his arms behind his back. Jimmy's eyes opened wide as he saw the other guard produce a syringe and plunge it into the side of his neck. Instantly he felt the powerful drug surge through his body, and within seconds his futile resistance came to an end as he slumped unconscious into the arms of his attacker.

"Lock him up," ordered Lex, staring at Jimmy's lifeless form. "Tomorrow find his car – Jimmy Olsen is about to be involved in a fatal accident, I fear."

* * *

Chloe sat staring at the laptop on the small table in front of her, the LuthorCorp screensaver drifting silently from one corner of the screen to another. It was the only object of note in an otherwise featureless room, every inch of which she had become familiar with over the previous couple of hours. She didn't know how long she'd been out – all she knew was that when she had come round she'd found herself alone in this room, her hands tightly bound behind her back and her feet similarly strapped to the legs of the chair. Escape was impossible, a fact that had become clear after endless twisting and turning had failed to loosen her bonds even a fraction of an inch. All she could do was wait – and think.....

_Oliver was alive!_ That one thought buoyed her up in this most desperate of situations. She still couldn't quite get over it; the miraculous sensation of holding him in her arms once more, gazing into his eyes for the first time as at last they had flickered open, placing her lips against his in a kiss so tender it could not possibly be described with all the words in the world. It had been like a fairy tale, those few precious minutes they'd shared together, before Lex's arrival turned the dream into a nightmare. What a fool she'd been! Everything had been a set-up, and now all seemed lost. The guys were in captivity, Jimmy too for all she knew, and Clark had no idea where they were, or what they had been working on. Why had she cut him out? Why had she been so stupid as to allow her pride to cloud her judgement? Now they would all pay for her mistake, and pay in a way that she didn't dare to contemplate.

A blood-curdling scream suddenly shattered the silence of the room. It was a terrible sound, raw and unrestrained, and as it echoed through the room it set every nerve in Chloe's body on edge. Somewhere, somewhere close, a man was being tortured – but who? Oliver? Bart? AC? Victor? Their faces appeared in her mind as she said their names to herself, each one smiling back at her in a memory from happier times. What horrors were they enduring now? This was only the beginning, of course – Lex wouldn't have gone to all this trouble simply to kill them. He would want to savour his victory, allow his sadistic nature full rein, and above all he would want to use them all to inflict as much pain on Oliver as was humanly possible. It was all too awful to contemplate, and Chloe tried to force her fears for the future into the back of her mind.

Suddenly there was the sound of movement from the other side of the door. Chloe tensed, sensing that her period of respite was over; it was now her turn to face her captors.

The door opened, to reveal the tall, elegant figure of Akunin. She stepped inside, carefully closing the door behind her before turning to face her prey.

"Chloe Sullivan – it's good to meet you again, if in somewhat different circumstances to our last encounter."

Chloe did not answer, but watched as Akunin inserted a flash drive into a port in the laptop. Waiting for her files to load, she then began to pace around the room, never once taking her eyes from the helpless young woman who eyed her with nervous expectation.

"The woman who stole Oliver Queen's heart – that's quite an achievement, Miss Sullivan. I gather your reunion with Oliver was quite a scene – I'm sorry that I missed it."

Akunin's use of Oliver's first name turned Chloe's stomach – the familiarity it suggested seemed so perverse and twisted in the mouth of the woman who now stood before her.

"You know I've got very close to Oliver since he became our guest here – very close indeed." Again Akunin's words seemed laced with a meaning that Chloe couldn't yet quite fathom. She felt unsettled, wary – unsure of where all this was leading.

Akunin stood behind Chloe, allowing the possible significance of that last phrase to hang heavy in the air. She said no more, preferring to allow the silence to build the sense of expectation about what might happen next. Her prey seemed so pathetic, so ordinary – she struggled to see why a man like Oliver Queen, a man who could have any woman he wanted, had lost his heart to such an average little woman. But he did love her, she knew that, and Akunin knew that if she was to complete her subjugation of the Green Arrow then she needed to break the bond that united them so strongly. What she was about to do would start that process, shake the unthinking faith that Chloe Sullivan had in the fidelity of her handsome hero.

"Do you love him, Chloe?" she asked, at last breaking the silence. Chloe did not respond, her mind racing to try to make sense of what game Akunin was playing, and what might be the significance of the files that Akunin was loading onto the laptop.

Akunin circled round, so that their eyes met.

"Do you love him? Of course you do – how could you not love him? He has everything – the handsome face, the gorgeous body, the fabulous wealth, the dangerous, exciting double life as a leather clad hero. Any woman in the world would fall in love with Oliver Queen, but he's fallen in love with you. And you can't quite believe it, can you? That someone like him should fall for someone like you. But he does love you – he's told you so, hasn't he? He's told you that you're the only woman he could ever love, the woman he will stay faithful to until his dying day."

Akunin paused, enjoying Chloe's apparent confusion. She brought her face close to hers, as if preparing to take her into her confidence.

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, Chloe," she whispered, "but he was lying."

Chloe's head swung round to face Akunin, her eyes flashing with anger and uncertainty.

"Hero boy is a liar, Chloe," continued Akunin, pressing home her advantage. "But then it's not surprising – like all men he's weak, a slave to his instincts. So when he needed some comfort, the reassurance of a woman's touch – well, with a body like that, how could I refuse?"

Chloe's head seemed to spin from the impact of Akunin's words. What was she saying? That she and Ollie had made out together? It was too fantastic for words.

"You're the liar, and a bad one," she replied, her voice confident and certain. "Oliver would never soil his hands with a woman like you – never."

"Really? You'd like to believe that, wouldn't you? That your hero had stayed true to his sweetheart, through all those lonely days of captivity. That may be how it is in your fantasy world, Chloe, but the truth is more painful, more real. He gave himself to me, Chloe – completely, and without restraint. There was no gun placed to his head, no blackmail – just a man, surrendering to his instincts like every other man through history."

"You're the one living in a fantasy world," countered Chloe, her voice still defiant. However, her eyes told a different story – there Akunin could see fear and doubt.

"I knew you wouldn't believe me – it's hard, I know, when a man betrays you. That's why I've brought along a short film to show you – I think you'll find it very...revealing."

Akunin reached across to the laptop and in an instant brought up on the screen a piece of film. At first Chloe couldn't quite make out what she was seeing, but as the images played out in front of her the shocking truth was all too plain to see. Two naked bodies entwined, surrendering to their carnal instincts – one, the woman who stood beside her, the other – dear God no! – the unmistakable figure of the man she loved.

Instinctively Chloe turned her head away – the pictures were too graphic, too obscene, and she knew that if she looked for even a moment longer then the images would be burned on her memory forever. But Akunin would not allow her the refuge of a diverted gaze; with vicious brutality she grabbed Chloe by the hair and chin, forcing her to look back as the film played out to its dreadful conclusion.

"How do you feel about him now, Chloe?" she sneered, a hint of breathless excitement in her voice. "Is he still your Mr Perfect, your Prince Charming? I have to say I can understand why you worship him. He was _so _good – perhaps the best I've ever had. And he wanted it, Chloe – he _so_ wanted it. Almost as if he'd been starved of a real woman for too long. Maybe you didn't satisfy him, Chloe – maybe deep down that sweet little smile of yours just wasn't enough to sustain him through the long days of imprisonment."

Chloe said nothing, but just longed for the horror that she was now forced to endure to end. Somewhere in her head a voice was telling her that it was part of the torture that had been prepared for her, that all this was designed to break her as surely as the physical pain that the others were suffering close by. But then, at that moment, such thoughts didn't help; all she could see was the man that she adored more than anyone else in the world in the arms of another, giving himself to her with a passion and a desire that she thought he reserved only for her. The camera did not lie – and the truth it told caused something inside her to die.

Akunin looked down at Chloe, observing with satisfaction the tears that flowed down her cheeks. She had done what she had set out to do – she had desecrated the love of Oliver Queen and Chloe Sullivan, violated the bond that united them forever.

For now her work was done. She would continue to play her mind games with the two lovebirds, after Lex had had his fun.

The thought of that made her mouth water with anticipation.

* * *

So it goes from bad to worse.... What more can I put them through? The next chapter is going to be very dramatic, and certainly one of the most angsty chapters I've ever written. All I'll say is that someone is not going to survive to see chapter twenty nine, and NO ONE is safe.....

Thanks for reading, and a special thanks to all those who take time to review. PLEASE do keep providing me with feedback - even a short review means a massive amount. Next update might be a little later than normal, but it should be posted sometime next weekend.


	28. Chapter 28: A hero's sacrifice

**Chapter Twenty Eight: A hero's sacrifice**

"Wake up, Oliver – it's time."

Akunin's voice, now so familiar, sounded somewhere above him. Oliver did not respond, but continued to lie on the floor of the cage, curled up on his side with his back to his captors. He had heard them enter a minute or so before, but where only twenty four hours earlier he would have turned towards the sound, full of hope that perhaps at last rescue had come, now he simply pulled himself a little more tightly into a foetal position. He knew what Akunin's arrival meant – and it filled him with dread.

He'd been left alone since Chloe had been dragged so dramatically from his arms, Lex standing over the doomed couple, his face a picture of sadistic intent. That had been many hours ago, hours which had passed so slowly. He'd been unable to sleep, even though physically and mentally he was exhausted. Thoughts swirled around his head, thoughts of Chloe, of the guys, of what terrors might await them in the days that lay ahead. Above all, there was a sense of unreality to it all; Chloe's miraculous appearance, the softness of her lips pressed against his, the realisation that everyone he cared for in the world now lay in the hands of a man who would stop at nothing to destroy him in mind, body and spirit. How could it have happened? How could any of this have happened? He was the good guy, the hero – he was _meant_ to win. Instead, Lex again carried all before him, and worse still, he now had fresh means to inflict pain upon him. The thought of what he might do to the guys, to Chloe, was too much for Oliver to bear, and every time his mind fell to thinking about the possibilities he had to fight the rising sense of panic that seemed to swell from within the deepest pit of his gut and which left him feeling physically nauseous. He had to stay strong, he knew that – he had to stay strong for Chloe, for all of them. A lover and a leader, as Akunin stood over him he braced himself for what he knew he had to do – to protect them, whatever the cost might be.

"Get him up."

Oliver felt hands grab his arms, and within seconds he'd been dragged to his feet. He was spun round to face Akunin, swaying unsteadily at the suddenness of the movement; exhaustion, coupled with a lack of food, had left him vulnerable. As his mind cleared he felt his hands being secured firmly behind his back, before a thick leather collar, at least three inches wide, was fastened tightly around his neck. A thick chain was then attached to the back of the halter, and stretched down his back before being attached to the bindings that tied his wrists. The effect was to pull his neck slightly back, limiting his freedom of manoeuvre and leaving him bound like some slave from ancient times. Oliver was all too aware that the impression created was entirely deliberate; Lex had some terrible act of theatre planned, the centrepiece of which would be his utter humiliation.

"Is that too tight, Oliver?" said Akunin, affecting the air of feigned concern which Oliver had become so familiar with during his long days in captivity. "I'm sorry, but Lex was most insistent – and you know how upset he gets when his plans are not followed to the letter."

Oliver did not reply, but simply stared past Akunin, his face a picture of stoical resistance.

"You know I'm sorry I missed that little reunion you had with Chloe," she continued, taking a step towards her captive so that her face was a matter of inches from his. "She really does worship you, doesn't she? Or perhaps that should be, _worshipped_ you – after she watched that little film we made together, I don't think she'll ever see her Prince Charming in quite the same way again."

The full meaning of Akunin's words reverberating through his mind, Oliver could not prevent himself from glancing across at her; it was the reaction that Akunin wanted, the sign that beneath the veneer of strength Oliver's vulnerability was as raw and exposed as she thought it to be.

"Yes, Oliver," she whispered, leaning in even closer, as if confiding some terrible secret. "She saw it all – every single last second of it. Her hero, in the arms of another woman – no wonder she wept so many tears. I ripped her heart out, Oliver – just as surely as if I'd cut it out with a knife."

Akunin's taunts caused something inside Oliver to break. Chloe's face appeared in his mind, but this time there was no smile, no joy – just a picture of an innocent, helpless woman, crying alone as her world fell apart. It was too much, just too much, and yet Oliver knew that this was only the beginning.

Akunin stepped back, content with the look of desolation on the young hero's face. Once her revelation would have provoked anger, perhaps even a show of physical defiance, but not this time; this time there was only a look of blank hopelessness in those eyes that had once flashed with so much fire. She was winning – and now Lex would deliver the coup de grace.

"Bring him."

Oliver was grabbed by the arms and marched out of the cage by the two men who had so effectively restrained him. They followed Akunin out of the chamber, before turning left down a corridor, the first of a number that they were to walk down on the way to their destination. Nothing was said, and only the occasional jab of pain as the leather halter cut into the side of his neck served to remind Oliver of his current plight. His thoughts were filled with Chloe, and the pain she must be feeling. He wanted to explain, to tell her that he still loved her more than anything else in the world, but he feared that he would not be given that chance. If they were to die, they needed to die with their love as pure as when it was first given birth, unsullied by Akunin's grotesque violation of his body and spirit.

"And here we are."

Akunin's words at last broke Oliver's reverie. He had no idea how long they had been walking, but he guessed it was at least a couple of minutes. Now they had reached their destination, a large door with an electronic keypad mounted to one side. Oliver was suddenly filled with a sense of impending disaster; he could not rationalise it, but somehow he knew that what lay beyond would be his worse nightmare made real.

Akunin typed in an access code, before turning to look once more at her prisoner.

"So, Oliver, are you ready for Lex's little show? I think you'll find it quite unforgettable."

She pushed open the door, and stepped inside. His heart filled with trepidation, Oliver was pushed after her.

The sight that awaited him proved to be all that he had feared – and worse. The room was large, and brightly lit. It had the air of a laboratory, with scientific equipment and computers sitting on trolleys to either side of the main entrance. These however, barely registered with Oliver; his eyes were immediately drawn to the terrible sight to be found directly in front of him. Three thick metallic poles, probably a foot in diameter, rose from the floor high into the air, wires sprouting from their tops and running across to what presumably was some form of power source located in a control box just below ceiling level. To each was bound a member of his team – Victor, Bart and AC. They had been secured to the poles with cruel efficiency; their arms were stretched behind their backs, where handcuffs held their wrists securely, whilst more chains and straps had been used to bind their feet, legs and chests. They were completely immobilised, utterly powerless to resist whatever torment was about to perpetrated upon them, and to complete their sense of impotence silver-grey duct tape had been wrapped ruthlessly around their heads; whatever Lex had planned, they would be no more than mute spectators to the unfolding drama.

Oliver's entrance had caused all three to look in his direction. Three sets of eyes, wide and fearful, met the eyes of the man they had thought was lost to them forever. The emotions that passed between them at that moment – surprise, desperation, anger, hope, terror, uncertainty, and a thousand more – did not need to be articulated to be understood by the four young men who now found themselves standing on the edge of an abyss. This was the moment that they had all feared, that they had all had nightmares about. They knew that the end could be close, but they drew strength from each other – they were brothers, and the bond that united them would now help them survive the terrors that must lay ahead.

Oliver felt responsible for these men. He had taken them under his wing, offered them support when they needed it and moulded them into the team which for so long had seemed to carry all before it. But as he looked at them now he felt a pang of guilt. He had brought them into his world, involved them in his vendetta against Lex; had he left them alone, they would not be facing the peril that they all now shared. As he looked at his friends he knew that he would never forgive himself if anything happened to them; he had put them in harm's way, and he must save them, whatever the price.

The shock of seeing his friends bound and gagged was compounded by the sight of AC. Whilst Victor and Bart appeared physically unharmed, the same could not be said of the third member of the team. Stripped of his costume, AC's broad chest was horribly scared, not only with the tell tale blisters that resulted from water deprivation, but also with countless burn marks that seemed to lacerate his flesh. His face was bloodied and bruised; one eye had swollen to such an extent that it had almost closed, and blood dribbled from a nose that had been broken by some shattering blow. It was all too clear that AC had been the victim of a ferocious beating, and Oliver's heart swelled with emotion as he watched the young man's head fall down to rest on his chest, the effort of holding himself upright simply proving too much for him. This was AC, the man whose humour and love of life had appeared irrepressible; now, battered to a bloody pulp, he seemed both physically and emotionally broken.

"Oliver! So good of you to join our little party!"

Lex's voice, mocking and triumphant, came from somewhere behind Oliver's left shoulder. The master of ceremonies had decided to make his presence known, and Oliver braced himself for whatever perverse act of torture his nemesis now had in store.

"As you can see, your little band of freaks are all here – they'd say hello, but as you can see, that's just not possible right now." As Lex spoke he walked past Oliver and towards his helpless captives, taking up a position in the centre of the room. It was clear that he was ready to begin, and all four of his young prisoners dreaded what might happen next.

"You know I've dreamt of this moment so many times, but not once did I ever think my fantasy would come true. The Green Arrow's elusive band of terrorists, in captivity and awaiting their fate – what could possibly be better than that, I wonder?"

No one said a word, but all eyes were trained on Lex. Like a host introducing the contestants on some twisted game show, he began to make his way from one prisoner to the next. He did not rush, but walked slowly, deliberately, pausing in front of each as he delivered his monologue, savouring the mixture of fear and defiance that flashed in each of the young men's eyes.

"And what a band of freaks they are, Oliver! Cyborg, aka Victor Stone – so much strength, so much technology, but brought low by a simple computer virus........ And then we have Bart Allen, the Impulse – the street punk with attitude. Blessed with great speed, but what good is that when you're trussed up and helpless?........ And finally Arthur Curry, Aquaman – the blond himbo. The strength of ten men, but as weak as a baby if denied water for a couple of hours. What a team! And to think that with this motley crew you thought you could bring me down – you always were a dreamer, Oliver, a hopeless dreamer."

As he finished his speech Lex paused before AC, grabbing him by the hair and pulling his head upwards.

"You know I must apologise for the state of AC here – as you know, Mr Carter can get carried away. I fear Aquaman may not be quite the hit with the girls on the beach anymore – somehow I don't think his scintillating conversation will quite make up for the loss of that oh so pretty face of his, do you?"

Oliver's gut churned at the sight of his friend being mocked so mercilessly. He wondered how it could possibly get any worse – he was soon to find out.

"This is quite some reunion, isn't it? And to think that these freaks thought you were dead, Oliver – how confused must they be right now! Why, blondie here can't even remember the part he played in your capture, can you, AC?"

AC appeared confused by Lex's words, but in a show of resistance he somehow found the energy to pull himself free from his captor's grip. Lex smiled indulgently, before moving back into the centre of the room.

"A great reunion," he continued, "but something's missing, don't you think? Or rather, someone. Carter, bring in Miss Sullivan – I think it's time she joined the party."

Oliver's heart missed a beat as realised that what he feared was about to become a reality – Chloe was to be forced to participate in Lex's twisted game. From behind him he was aware of movement, before Chloe appeared in front of him, held firmly by the arm by Carter. Her hands were bound behind her back, and she too had been silenced by a long strip of duct tape which had been wrapped brutally around her head. Carter pushed her over to the side of the room, before bringing her to a halt and pulling her close to his body. He looked across at Oliver, his face a picture of lascivious malice; having made certain the young hero was watching, he gratuitously licked the side of Chloe's cheek in a gesture calculated to provoke. Chloe recoiled in horror, but Carter only pulled her tighter against his body, pulling a gun from his belt and pressing it hard against her temple.

"Leave her alone!" demanded Oliver, overcome by the sight of his love being manhandled by Carter. He struggled to free himself from the grasp of the two guards who continued to hold him firmly by the arms, but to no avail; the only reward he got for his show of resistance was a slap around the face from Akunin, determined to keep her prisoner in line.

"You speak when you're spoken to, understand?" she said, her voice sharp and callous.

"Don't worry, Miss Akunin – it's only natural that Oliver should want to come to the aid of our damsel in distress here. He is the Green Arrow, after all – hero's do have images to maintain, don't they, Oliver?"

Oliver did not respond to Lex's words, but instead continued to look across at Chloe. She looked so afraid, so fragile, and he couldn't help but think of the pain she must be feeling having seen the film of him and Akunin together. He wanted to reassure her, to protect her and tell her it would be okay, and somehow, through the simple power of a loving pair of eyes, he felt that he went some way towards giving her the same strength as he had given to the guys just a minute or so earlier.

"But it is just an image, isn't it?" continued Lex, ready to move to the next phase of his carefully stage-managed drama. "Like everything about you, Oliver, it's all show and no substance. The devoted lover, the heroic leader – they're just fronts. Unlike your friends here, unlike Chloe, I know the _real_ Oliver Queen, the man behind the image. And underneath that absurd costume and that winning smile, what is there really, Oliver? Nothing – nothing at all. And that's what this is all about – showing our audience here the truth about Oliver Queen."

"Get on with it, Lex – whatever you're going to do, I'm sure your plan doesn't involve boring us all to death." Oliver's voice was strong and clear; that, as well as the lightness of his quip, designed to give his friends courage for what lay ahead.

Lex smiled. "Ahh, the famous Queen humour – how I'm going to miss that." Without warning he then drove his fist into Oliver's gut, causing the young hero to double up in pain. "But this is no joke, Oliver – and from now on you'll show me the respect I deserve. So it's Mr Luthor sir from now on, I think."

"Go screw yourself, Lex," gasped Oliver, looking up at his captor as he struggled to force air back into his lungs.

"No...no, that's not what I'm looking for, Oliver – that's not what I'm looking for at all. I can see I need to give you a lesson in manners."

Oliver braced himself for a second assault, but none came. Instead he was aware of Lex pulling some sort of device from his jacket pocket, before he turned and faced the guys who were watching helplessly close by. He pointed the device above their heads, and suddenly there was the crackle of an enormous electric charge. Oliver watched in horror as the bodies of his three friends jerked uncontrollably against their bonds, twisting and turning in agony as thousands of volts of electricity surged through them. Only the sound of the charge emanating from a hidden generator could be heard, but in Oliver's head he could hear the silent screams of his young team as their bodies were wracked with convulsions of grotesque intensity.

"Stop it, Lex – please, stop it!"

Oliver's desperate plea was met calmly by Lex, who regarded his foe with a serenity that was wholly at odds with the torture that was now going on just feet from where he stood, master of all he surveyed.

"Only when you show me the respect I deserve," he said, his voice measured and controlled.

Oliver knew that he was trapped. He had no choice – he had to comply.

"Please stop – Mr Luthor, sir."

Lex smiled to hear the words of submission fall from his adversary's mouth. Casually he pointed the control towards the power source, and in an instant the sound of the electricity charge ceased. The three young men fell still, only the movement of their chests as they tried to recover from the trauma they had endured a sign that they were still alive.

"So now you understand the consequences of defiance, shall we continue?" said Lex, resuming his position in front of Oliver. "Now, kneel before me."

The command was said so casually, yet everyone in the room was keenly aware of the tension that now bound the two men together in their battle of wills. They had fought each for so long, but now their struggle was coming to an end - and it was coming to an end with the triumph of Lex Luthor. He was determined to humiliate Oliver before those who mattered most to him, rob him of the dignity and nobility that had made him the charismatic figure that they had all come to love and idolise. And there was nothing that Oliver could do to stop him – to save his friends, he had no choice but to obey.

For a moment the two men stared at each other, one conscious of his own helplessness, the other of his own invincibility.

"Kneel!"

This time the command was said more insistently, the word laced with menace about the consequences of disobedience.

Slowly, terribly, Oliver at last complied, falling to his knees before his now gloating master. All eyes were turned towards the drama that was unfolding with such grim inevitability. For some, like Akunin and Carter, it was like a fantasy come true, the humbling of the Green Arrow; for others, for the guys and Chloe, it was a scene of heartbreaking evil. Lex was winning – and it was not over yet.

"And so at last we see the Green Arrow where he belongs – on his knees," sneered Lex, subconsciously drawing himself up to his full height so that he could tower over his captive. He glanced across at Chloe and the guys, satisfying himself that they were witnessing the destruction of their hero; the looks of fear and anguish in their eyes told their own story. He then turned back towards Oliver, who was staring at the floor in front of him, not wishing to catch the eyes of any of those who meant so much to him.

"And now you will beg me for mercy, Oliver – beg for the lives of your friends."

Oliver slowly looked up at Lex. He found a face glowing with success, drunk on the humiliation of a man he loathed more than anyone else in the world. It was clear that Lex wanted more – he was enjoying himself too much to bring this horror to a quick and merciful end.

"I said beg, Oliver – or one of your little band of freaks will get another shock, and this time he won't wake up when it's over."

Oliver swallowed hard, the words that he knew he had to say sticking in his throat.

"Please, Mr Luthor... sir, don't hurt them anymore," he said quietly.

Lex chuckled, delighting in the moment.

"What was that, Oliver? I don't think we all caught that."

"Please, leave them alone."

"Did we all hear that?" asked Lex, looking around the room. "Oliver Queen is begging _me_ for mercy. What do you think, Miss Akunin? Shall I grant our honoured guest his wish? Shall I allow his freaks and his pretty little girlfriend to escape the punishment they deserve for aiding this criminal?"

Akunin looked at Oliver, before shifting her gaze to her boss.

"Justice must be done, Mr Luthor – no amount of special pleading should be allowed to prevent that."

"Quite right, Miss Akunin," said Lex, looking once more down at Oliver's prostrate form. "I'm sorry Oliver, but no matter how much you beg, they cannot be allowed to escape punishment – I'm sure you understand."

Increasingly desperate, and sensing something terrible was about to happen, Oliver could contain himself no longer.

"Look Lex, I've done what you asked – what more do you want? Do whatever you want with me, but leave them alone – please, I'm begging you!"

The anxiety in Oliver's voice was audible, and his face, etched with fear, only added to the sense of a man who knew that he was playing his last card. He knew that this was all part of Lex's game, that every moment of this unfolding drama had been planned down to the last detail over many hours. Somehow he needed to change the script, prevent events tumbling towards whatever nightmarish conclusion Lex had concocted in his perverted imagination. But he was running out of options – and both he and Lex were well aware of that.

Lex paused for a moment, before grabbing Oliver by the hair and pulling his head back.

"Oh, I'm going to do what I want with you, Oliver, you can be sure of that. And what I want is to see you suffer, to see you suffer as you are forced to stand by and watch one of your freaks die!" Lex's voice was breathless, suffused with hate, but at last the truth had been spoken, and his plan was revealed. Oliver's eyes widened as he took in the awful meaning of what he had just heard, conscious that he was powerless to stop Lex fulfilling the promise that he had just made. Someone was going to die – but who?

Contemptuously Lex let go of Oliver's head, before turning to face the three young men who were his prisoners. They had heard Lex's words; some had suspected that it might come to this, but all now eyed with a mixture of trepidation and anger the man who might soon claim one of their lives.

"So, who wants to die?" asked Lex, surveying his captives. "Come now, you know I'm going to kill you all eventually – surely someone wants to volunteer?"

There was silence in the room, everyone waiting to see where the hand of death would fall.

"Well, if there are no volunteers, I guess we'll have to approach this alphabetically," said Lex, turning his attention towards the battered form of AC. "Which I'm afraid means you, Aquaman."

All eyes turned towards AC. He showed no obvious reaction, but simply stared defiantly at his potential executioner, almost as if he was daring him to do his worst.

"Unchain him," ordered Lex.

Two guards who had been flanking the prisoners began to unlock the shackles that restrained AC; within a few seconds he fell forward as he was released from the pole. His hands still bound behind his back, and too weak to offer any resistance, he was then dragged to the centre of the room, before being forced to his knees. He was just a few feet away from where Oliver too was held in submission, and for a split second the two men's eyes met. In that moment the bond of brotherhood seemed to give both strength and courage, before Lex intervened, eager to see the drama he had planned reach its climax.

"Ready to die, fish boy?" sneered Lex, grabbing AC by the hair and pulling his head back so that he could look the young man in the eye. He wanted to see fear, but was disappointed; instead dignity and resolution shone out from his cut and bruised face.

"No? Well, never let it be said that I'm not a sporting man. I'll give Oliver there one last chance to save you – let's see if he takes it."

The two heroes glanced at each other, before looking back at Lex. Both knew that this was some sort of trick, but still, perhaps there was a glimmer of hope after all, a way of avoiding the fate that seemed to be moving inexorably towards them.

"Carter, bring Miss Sullivan here."

Oliver's eyes widened in panic as Chloe was dragged to the centre of the room, before being forced to her knees a few feet from where AC already knelt. Not for the first time since this drama had begun, a wave of nausea swept through him as he realised that Lex was determined to involve Chloe in his twisted game. Terror gripped his heart, but he was powerless to do anything about it – he could only wait for Lex to reveal his hand.

"So here we have it, Oliver – a member of your team of freaks, and the woman you claim to love. Only one of them can leave this room alive, but the choice of who that is I leave to you. So who do you want to die, Oliver? Chloe or AC?"

Lex put his question in such a matter-of-fact way, it took those assembled in the room a couple of seconds to take in the full enormity of what he had said. For Oliver the impact of Lex's words were like a hammer blow to his senses. Hobson's choice, in a form so wicked, so unremittingly evil, that even the most practised writer of horror fiction would have struggled to come up with such a scenario. Oliver was trapped, and he knew it. Lex had searched for the most terrible form of torture he could inflict on him, and he had found it – to force him to choose between the lives of two of the people he loved more dearly than anyone else in the world.

For what seemed like an eternity no one spoke, the tension in the room almost physically real.

"Well, Oliver? Which is it to be?" asked Lex at last, fixing his captive with a stare of cold intent.

"I won't choose, Lex – there's no way I'm playing your sick little game. If you want to kill someone kill me – that's what you want, isn't it? That's what all this is about!" Oliver was trying to stay calm, but he could not hide the anxiety in his voice.

"And let you be the self-sacrificing hero? I don't think so, do you? No, you will choose – there is no alternative. Either you choose, or they both die – so which is it to be?"

His last desperate throw of the dice a failure, Oliver looked at the two friends whose fate now lay in his hands. Tears were flowing from Chloe's desperate eyes, eyes which pleaded not for life, but which cried out in sympathy at the awful dilemma he could not escape. She looked so vulnerable, so fragile – why had he ever allowed her to get drawn into this world? And then there was AC, beaten and bloodied, but utterly unbowed. As their eyes met there was an understanding between them of what inevitably must follow, a course of action which AC confirmed with the merest hint of a nod. Oliver knew what the gesture meant; like a condemned man forgiving his executioner, AC had signalled his forgiveness for what both of them knew must be done.

"Time's up, Oliver," said Lex, towering over his rival. "Choose now – or they both die."

Oliver looked up at Lex, and at that moment he was consumed with a hate for his jailer more powerful than any emotion he could ever remember experiencing. Had he been free at that second he would have killed Lex with his bare hands, but the halter around his neck made any attack on his adversary futile. He had to choose – and he had to choose now.

"AC," he said, his voice so quiet it was almost inaudible.

Lex grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head back.

"What was that, Oliver? I want everyone to hear who you've chosen to die."

"AC," said Oliver, his voice louder this time.

"And there we have it!" cried Lex in triumph, letting Oliver go and turning towards Bart and Victor. "The great Green Arrow, the founder and leader of the Justice League, condemns one of his own to death! It seems that brotherhood matters less to Oliver than what he keeps inside his pants."

Oliver did not respond to Lex's taunts, but simply stared at the floor in front of him. He'd done what he had to do, what any of them would have done, but that did not make it any easier; the nausea that he had felt earlier now threatened to make him physically sick.

"Tough break, Aquaman," said Lex, squatting down in front of the doomed hero. "Must be hard hearing Oliver there give you a one way ticket to Davy Jones' locker. Still, after what Carter's done to that handsome face of yours, maybe it's for the best, eh?"

AC glared at Lex, but did not flinch. From somewhere deep within himself he was finding a strength that had nothing to do with the physical power that water gave to him. This was an emotional strength, an inner calm that he knew meant he could face death like the hero he was, and had always wanted to be.

Lex got to his feet, before circling round behind AC so that he could face Oliver. The moment had come, and, his heart pumping with excitement, he slowly withdrew a small syringe from his inside jacket pocket. Carefully he pulled off the protective cap, before holding the device out in front of him, making a show of studying it intently.

"And so we come to the method of execution. I'm not one for guns – I know blondie here hasn't got much of a brain, but I still don't want it splattered all across my laboratory floor. No – I've asked Dr Thomas to come up with something far more inventive. A powerful toxin – he tells me that death will occur within ten seconds of it entering the bloodstream."

"Lex...!" said Oliver, trying to stand as if he intended to rush Lex in some final bid to save his friend. He didn't get very far; Akunin knocked him back to the ground, before seizing him around the neck and pressing a knife against his throat. He was powerless, and could only now watch as Lex prepared to deliver the fatal injection.

"So, shall we begin?" He then grabbed AC around the neck, pulling him back towards his own body. Oliver's heart missed a beat as he saw the syringe hovering just an inch or so away from the young hero's face.

"I suppose I should allow the condemned man to say some final words. Would you like that, Aquaman?" sneered Lex, looking down at the man he was about to murder. AC did not respond, but just stared straight ahead, as if in a daze; he had put himself mentally in a place of calm, ready to meet his maker.

"No? Well, I guess you wouldn't have had anything interesting to say anyway." And with that he plunged the syringe into AC's neck, draining its contents into the young man's bloodstream before stepping back, exultant as he waited for the inevitable.

All eyes were on AC. For a moment nothing happened, and for one blessed second Oliver thought that it had all been some sort of elaborate trick, another of Lex's games. But then all colour seemed to drain from AC's features, before he fell forwards onto the floor. His body was then engulfed by violent convulsions, jerking and twisting obscenely as all around watched, transfixed by the horror that was playing out in front of them. For what seemed like an eternity the spasms continued, until suddenly they ceased, leaving a deathly quiet hanging like a shroud across the room.

Casually Lex walked forward, using his feet to roll AC's body over onto its back. There was no movement from the hero, no sign of life. All eyes were drawn towards his face, where AC's eyes were wide open. But these were not the eyes that had looked at Oliver just moments earlier, reassuring him that it was okay, and that he understood the decision that had to be made. These were dead eyes, unseeing eyes, eyes that stared obscenely into the air, wide and empty.

Lex stepped across to where Akunin held Oliver. She stood aside, allowing Lex to grab Oliver by the hair and drag him over to AC's corpse. He then pushed Oliver's face down towards AC's, so that he had to look directly into those terrible, vacant eyes, an image of such terrifying intensity Oliver could feel it burning itself into his memory. He would never forget this moment – and both Lex and Oliver knew it.

"See, Oliver? See what you've done? You killed him, Oliver – _you _decided he should die. And tomorrow we'll do it all again – only this time you'll be choosing between the kid and Chloe!"

Oliver did not hear. All he could do was look at the lifeless face of his friend, a face that had once been so full of laughter, of strength, of goodness.

Now all that was gone.

Tears welled up in his eyes as in his mind he said goodbye to his friend and comrade.

Arthur Curry – friend, brother, hero – was dead.

* * *

Well, I warned you that this chapter would push the angst to the max - I hope I didn't disappoint! A couple of records for me with this installment - longest chapter I've ever written, and the first time I've killed off a major character. I hope I did the trauma of AC's death justice - just as with Jimmy's death in the show, I think it is important that the major players get a good send off. I think that some of you were expecting Jimmy to die - in which case this must have come as a shock!

Please, please, please let me know what you think. You know how much reviews mean to me, and I'd be especially interested in hearing what you think about this chapter. It took me a long time to write, so you would make my day if you could spare a few moments to leave some feedback.

Finally, the bad news - no update next week. I'm drowning in work, and won't be able to get one done. Hopefully I'll be able to post in two weeks, but time is really tight at the moment.


	29. Chapter 29: To Die a Hero

**Chapter Twenty Nine: To Die a Hero**

Oliver felt nothing as he fell heavily to the floor, his bound hands powerless to break his fall. In fact he had felt nothing, seen nothing, since he had been dragged from that room some minutes before, the last fleeting images of AC's lifeless corpse and Chloe's tear stained face disappearing as he was hauled back down those endless corridors to his place of captivity. He felt numb, his brain shutting down under the impact of the terrible trauma he had been forced to endure. He had no awareness of his surroundings, no recollection of Lex gloating over him, exultant in his victory. All he could see was a single image, burned onto his memory like a brand of Cain and filling his head with a nightmarish intensity that seemed to grow stronger with every passing minute.

_Those eyes! Those wide, staring, empty eyes!_

The vision of AC's lifeless stare, a stare Lex had consciously seared into the young hero's memory, was all that Oliver could think about. _AC was dead! _It seemed so unreal, so impossible. But there was no denying what they had all witnessed. Arthur Curry, a man so full of vitality, had had his life brutally snuffed out in an act of such pure evil no writer of horror fiction could ever have imagined it. And Oliver had been powerless to stop it; indeed, he had been forced to collude in his friend's murder, to choose the life of Chloe over the life of one of his team. How could he ever recover from this moment? How could he ever move on? Those final seconds of AC's life, writhing obscenely on the ground as poison spread with terrifying speed through his powerful frame, were seconds that Oliver knew he was destined to replay over and over in his mind until the day he died. It didn't matter that he had had no choice but to condemn his friend to death, that AC, as ever so selfless and brave, had absolved him from blame with that tiny gesture of understanding. None of that mattered – what mattered was that in Oliver's heart he had condemned himself. _He_ had built the Justice League,_ he_ had involved them in his quest to destroy Lex, _he_ had failed to protect them. For Oliver, choosing AC to die was not the beginning and end of his guilt; it was a manifestation of a deeper failure, a failure that had already cost one life, and would probably cost many more.

"That was some show Lex put on back there, eh Queen?" Carter's voice sounded somewhere above Oliver, but it barely registered with him; neither did he feel the halter being removed from his neck, or his wrists being unshackled.

"There now, that should make you feel a little more comfortable," continued Carter, towering over Oliver's apparently lifeless body. "Lex wants you to get a good night's sleep, so we can do it all again tomorrow. Ain't that something to look forward to? Wonder who you'll choose this time – the kid or your bitch? No contest, I guess – still, no one will miss that piece of street shit. Anyhow, sleep well, leather boy – who knows, maybe you'll dream of Aquaman, and all those times you two heroes used to snuggle up real close in that secret base of yours."

Laughing callously at his own joke, Carter turned and walked from the cage, locking the gate securely behind him. His footsteps echoed around the chamber, gradually becoming more distant until at last they disappeared. There was the sound of another door closing, and then silence.

At last Oliver was alone. Perhaps it was the silence, but at that moment something within him gave way. The crushing of his hopes of rescue, seeing his friends in captivity, Chloe's tears of desperation, above all the death of AC – suddenly it was all just too much to bear. A tear ran down his cheek, to be quickly followed by another, and another, until he was crying uncontrollably. He had not wept so freely since he had been told of the death of his parents, all those years ago, but now he sobbed with an intensity of sorrow that seemed to even eclipse that childhood memory. Lex had won, and there seemed to be no way out; his wealth, his strength, his courage, all appeared useless against a foe who had invested so much in his destruction. What use was his training now? His secret identity? It all felt so pointless, so futile. He had failed to save his friend, and soon they would all be dead; he, the supposedly invulnerable hero, had failed them all. He felt like a fraud, a fake, a man who had dreamed of being a hero, but who when the crisis came could not deliver when it mattered most. Tears of grief and desperation turned into tears of anger and contempt, contempt for his own weakness, for the leather suit that he wore, but did not truly fill. Lex was right – he was nothing more than a superficial playboy, pretending to be something he never was, never could be. He hated himself, hated what he had become....

Suddenly, from the depths of his despair, a new emotion took hold of him, powerful and compelling: resolution. All might be lost, and they might all be facing death, but he still had one card to play, one choice that Lex had been unable to wrest from him. AC had died a hero, sacrificing his life for another – why could he not do the same? He didn't have to play Lex's games, with their endings preordained according to his enemy's twisted imagination. He could fight back, resist; even if it meant death, it would be death with honour. Chloe's face flashed into his mind, her tear-stained features looking so vulnerable, so fragile. He had to fight, for her, for all of them; whatever the consequences, whatever his past failings, he now knew what he had to do.

At last the tears that had so freely flowed began to cease, as his mind was filled with an implacable determination to turn his sense of resolution into action. Mentally he felt rejuvenated, his resolve more powerful than any drug, and his thoughts turned to how he might fight back against his captors.

The Green Arrow would not die a captive; the Green Arrow would die a hero.

* * *

The sound of a man sobbing – surprising, shocking, unnerving – filled the otherwise silent control room. For the woman who sat listening intently, it was a fascinating sound; the sound of victory, of a hero finally destroyed. Akunin had heard men weep before, as they had cried out for mercy and an end to the torture that she was inflicting upon them. But to hear such a sound come from the once mighty Oliver Queen....well, it was a sound so sweet to her ears she could barely contain herself. She stared, transfixed, at the monitor which showed Oliver lying on the floor of the cage, his body occasionally vibrating as his sobs echoed through his muscular frame. It was a terrible sight, to see a man so utterly broken, but to Akunin the images she now gazed upon gave her a rush of exceptional intensity. She had never been fully convinced by Lex's love of the theatrical; the stage management often seemed too elaborate, too susceptible to the unexpected. But this time...well, this time she had to admit that Lex had masterminded the choreography of AC's death with exquisite precision. Oliver's helplessness had been a joy to watch, the anguish etched on that once so self-assured face as his friend met his end a memory that she would relive a thousand times in the weeks and months to come. Lex was a master, of that there could be no doubt, but the terror she had just witnessed had left her hungry for more, hungry for own taste of Oliver Queen's destruction....

She glanced across at another monitor, where Chloe could be seen, slumped forward on a chair. A smile formed on her lips as a plan took shape in her mind, a plan to rival Lex's in the purity of its evil. Oliver's love for Chloe was clear; he had sacrificed one friend to keep her alive, and would undoubtedly sacrifice more in the coming days. But what if she could destroy that love? Chloe had already seen the film of Akunin and Oliver together, but that had not been enough to shake the young woman's devotion to her lover. What if she went one further? What if the next time she and Oliver made love, they were to have an audience? What if Chloe Sullivan was forced to watch her hero in the arms of another?

Akunin looked back to the screen showing Oliver's prostrate form, the sound of his weeping still filling the room.

_Don't worry, Oliver, I'm coming. Soon we'll be together once more, and as we make love, so the love you share with Chloe Sullivan will finally be broken._

* * *

I know what you're thinking - too short! Please don't be too angry - life for me is mad at the moment, and when I'm not working I feel exhausted. Not the best conditions for writing, but I promised an update, and I didn't want to let you down.

I hope you liked it - please do let me know what you think be writing a review. Every one means a lot to me, even if it's just a line or so. Next update will probably be in about 9-10 days time - things are going to stay mad for me for a few weeks yet, but then I should have a lot more time to finish the story in the way that both you and me would want.


	30. Chapter 30: A Live Performance

**Chapter Thirty: A Live Performance**

"That's right, you struggle all you want – I like it when a bitch puts up a fight."

Carter's words seemed to mock Chloe's efforts to free herself from his vice-like grip. For more than a minute she had struggled in vain to break free as he had dragged her down corridor after corridor towards whatever new horror awaited her, and now, as it became clear that they had finally arrived at their destination, her efforts took on a fresh urgency as a wave of panic swept over her. What new torture had her captors in store for her now? Only hours earlier she had been forced to witness a scene of unimaginable cruelty, as the life of a friend had been snuffed out in act of pure evil. Would she ever be able to forget the image of AC's lifeless body, lying twisted at Lex's feet? Or the sight of Oliver's face, utterly devastated at the loss of a man he loved like a brother? Terrible images, unforgettable images, but even now she knew they had not reached the end – that Lex had even worse torments in store. She didn't know how much more she could take, but even as she prepared herself for what horrors might lie ahead, so something inside her told her to stay strong. She had to keep it together, whatever the price – her love for Ollie meant that anything less would be to betray him, and all that they meant to each other.

Chloe squirmed to free herself as Carter moved to open the door to their destination. Finally frustrated by her lack of cooperation, he flung her against the wall adjacent to the door, before swinging her round and slapping her hard across the face. The combination of blows left Chloe momentarily disorientated, and so she offered no more resistance as Carter dragged her inside. Her vision blurred, she was unable to focus on her new surroundings, but was soon aware of Carter's rough hands pushing her down into a chair; within seconds the press of rope against her body told her that the relative freedom which she had enjoyed as she had been brought to this place was to be short-lived.

Having bound Chloe securely to the chair, Carter stepped back. For a few moments there was silence, until Chloe heard the click of a woman's heels sounding against the hard polished floor. As her vision cleared she found herself staring once more into the eyes of Akunin, who now stood before her, a half-smile dancing on her lips.

"So Chloe, did you enjoy your little rest? After the show Lex put on for us earlier, I imagine you needed a break. So much drama! And didn't blondie die well! Curry might not have been blessed with much of a brain, but he certainly knew how to die a hero, didn't he?"

Chloe did not respond to Akunin's taunts, but instead tried to make sense of her new surroundings. To her relief this room was not like the room in which she and the others had been forced to take part in Lex's piece of twisted theatre; there were no obvious implements of torture, and, apart from Akunin and Carter, they were quite alone. The absence of Lex and the guys reassured her; whatever lay ahead, it was not to be a repeat of the terror that she had witnessed just a couple of hours earlier. However, what did occupy the room still had the power to unsettle her; a freshly made bed, covered in crisp white linen, dominated the space in front of her, inanimate but pregnant with meaning.

"You're wondering about the bed?" said Akunin casually, noting the direction of Chloe's gaze. "Come now, Chloe – surely you recognise it? I know Curry's death was memorable, but it can't have obliterated all recollection of that little film we shared together. This is where Oliver and I made love, Chloe – this where your handsome prince betrayed you."

Even before Akunin had finished speaking Chloe had realised the true significance of the bed. Memories of that terrible film flooded back into her mind; of Akunin and Oliver together, their bodies entwined in an act of apparently unrestrained love making. Her stomach turned over as the images flashed across her mind, each one more obscene than the last, but now, as she stared at the site of Oliver's apparent betrayal, her eyes alighted on objects not visible on the film; the shackles which were secured to each side of the headboard.

"The shackles?" said Akunin, again anticipating Chloe's thoughts. "I thought you knew? Oliver likes to play the submissive – it's one of his little games. Who'd have thought it? The mighty Green Arrow, needing to be dominated by a powerful woman. Still, anyone who dresses up in green leather must have issues, I suppose. Particularly when his needs are not being met by the woman he claims to love. A meek little thing like you – well, it's no wonder he turned to me to fulfil his real desires, now is it?"

"You lying bitch!" exclaimed Chloe, unable to prevent herself from finally responding to Akunin's ever more twisted taunts. "I don't know what you did to him, but I know that he would never give himself to you willingly – never!"

"Ahh, Chloe, have I touched a nerve? Still you insist on playing the devoted young lover, which is why I've decided to arrange something of a live performance – just to convince you, once and for all."

The colour drained from Chloe's cheeks as at last she realised why she had been brought to this room. The film was not enough for Akunin – she wanted Chloe to see her with Oliver in the flesh, live and unfiltered by any camera.

"Yes, Chloe, Oliver and I are going to make love – and we're going to do it just for you, there, on that very bed. I'm sure you'll agree, after the loss of his friend, Oliver needs the comfort of a woman's touch – and I have to confess, I can't wait to hold that amazing body of his in my arms once more. So what do you say to that, Chloe? When I take him in front of your eyes, will that finally convince you that your hero is nothing more than a leather-clad fraud?"

Chloe did not respond, but words were not necessary. Akunin could see the fear in her eyes – fear that this most terrible of tortures would be the one that her love finally could not endure.

"Carter, go fetch Mr Queen – I think it's time, don't you?"

* * *

The first thing Jimmy was aware of as he regained consciousness was the throbbing pain which pulsated through his head, a reminder of the drug which had been used to sedate him. For a few short moments his memory failed him, and he struggled to make sense of what had happened. But then it all flooded back to him, recollections of the events of the last few days and hours which only served to add emotional pain to the physical discomfort that he was now experiencing. How could he have been so stupid? What on earth had possessed him to trust a man like Lex Luthor, when every rational instinct in his body had cried out that it was a terrible mistake? Well now he was paying for it, along with his new-found friends....along with Chloe.....

Chloe! Lex had Chloe! That single thought caused Jimmy's stomach to turn over. He'd been naive to think that the two of them would walk away from this nightmare unscathed, ready for a life together first as friends, and later as lovers. Instead he had delivered her into the clutches of a psychopath, a man who would not hesitate to torture and kill in his desire to inflict harm on Oliver Queen. How could this be happening? How on earth had his desire to make Chloe his own resulted in both their lives being in mortal jeopardy?

_I have to do something! I must save her, whatever it takes!_

Jimmy was suddenly gripped by a sense of purpose and resolution. He had to save Chloe, even if it meant losing his life in the process; in fact, given the terrible weight of guilt that now bore down on his shoulders, death might come as something of a blessed release. He would get her out of here, release her from her captivity. As that thought took shape in his mind he felt his heart beginning to lift, even as he realised that what he intended to do would possibly result in his death; he would achieve redemption, and that was all that mattered. He _could_ be a hero, and wash his hands clean of the blood that now stained them.

Knowing what he had to do, at last he dared to open his eyes. Blinking under the harsh glare of the electric light, it took him a couple of seconds to take in his surroundings. He was lying on the floor in an empty room, the walls and ceiling painted white. He was relieved; although he could not be sure, he felt confident that he was still inside the LuthorCorp building. Chloe must be close by, and all he had to do was to find her....

Turning himself over onto his side, he tested the rope that bound his wrists. To his surprise, he found that the bonds were loose; clearly whoever had tied him up did not consider Jimmy Olsen to be worthy of the same level of restraint as the Green Arrow and his friends. Well he would teach them a lesson they would not forget – he would teach them not to underestimate a man inspired by love.

_I'm coming, Chloe – hang on! I'm coming, and I promise I won't let you down!_

* * *

I know what you're thinking - another chapter that's too short! Sorry, but life remains crazy at the moment, and finding time to write is very difficult. I wanted to get this one posted to set things up for the big chapters to come, and to reassure you that this story is still very much alive.

Next update will be in about two weeks time, and then after that we will be back to regular weekly updates. The big fight back is about to begin, but don't think it is all going to be plain sailing for Ollie and the others - I've got many twists and turns to come, and some surprises which you'll like, and others which you won't like....

Mad as life is at the moment, and even though this story has some way to go, I've already got another Chlollie story buzzing around in my mind, which I'm really excited about. Please stick with this one, even though the updates are a little irregular - as I said, weekly updates will return soon. And if you could drop me a review, well, that would be amazing!


	31. Chapter 31: Fighting Back

**Chapter Thirty One: Fighting Back**

"On your feet, pretty boy."

Oliver said nothing as he complied with Carter's command, slowly pulling himself to his feet as his captor looked on. Outwardly he appeared to be in a daze, a husk of a man shattered by his experiences at the hands of his tormentors. That was how he wanted to appear – broken, subservient, a man incapable of resistance. He needed to lull his jailer into a false sense of security, cause him to become complacent, careless; only then would he be able to make good on the promise he had made to himself to save Chloe and the others, whatever the price. Beneath his apparently lifeless exterior his mind was sharper than it had been at any time since he had been brought to his subterranean prison, his senses alert to even the merest hint of an opportunity to turn the tables on his captor. Adrenalin was surging through his body, pumping him up physically and mentally for the desperate gamble that he was now committed to undertake. But he needed to stay calm, he knew that; if Carter picked up even the slightest hint that he was planning something then everything would be lost.

"Hands out," ordered Carter. Again Oliver did as he was told, and did not react as handcuffs were snapped into place around his wrists. Inwardly he sighed as once more he found himself shackled, but there was one glimmer of hope; his hands were chained in front of his body, meaning that he retained some freedom of manoeuvre. It was an opening, albeit small; now he just needed to find the right moment to strike.....

"Don't worry, leather boy – it's not Lex who wants to see you this time. No, this time it's Akunin who wants to play. Seems she's taken pity on that pretty little face of yours – wants to offer you the comfort of a woman's touch. And you know what? She's arranged for that little bitch of yours to be there too – maybe you could make it a threesome!"

Carter laughed at his own joke, before gesturing to Oliver with his gun to start moving towards the door to the cage. Oliver said nothing, but inside his mind was racing. Akunin planned to take him once more, and this time Chloe was to be forced to watch! It seemed too depraved to be real, but Oliver had learnt from bitter experience that as far as Lex and Akunin were concerned, nothing was off limits. The knowledge of what was to come only made Oliver even more determined to make his bid to escape, but how? As he exited the cage he looked up at the cameras that monitored all activity within the chamber. Any attempt to escape here would be futile – even if he managed to overcome Carter, other guards would be here within the minute. He had to find somewhere that wasn't monitored to make his move, somewhere beyond the reach of the cameras....

Oliver started to walk towards the main exit to the chamber, but was stopped by Carter's hand on his shoulder.

"Not that way, boy – the doc needs to give you a shot of that love potion of his first of all. We're heading towards the lab – now move."

A shove to his back propelled Oliver forwards, before he turned left and started to walk away from the main entrance and towards the door which led to the lab. To Oliver, of course, the room had only sinister associations; there, for session after session, he had endured torture at the hands of the unsmiling Dr Thomas. As he walked towards the room he tried to recall the locations of the surveillance cameras, hoping that there might be an opportunity there which did not exist in the heavily monitored main chamber. He needed there to be an opportunity, for, as he was all too painfully aware, once Thomas gave him a shot of that drug his mind and body would no longer be his to control.

All too quickly they arrived at the door to the lab, and within seconds Carter had opened it and pushed Oliver inside. The room was empty, the gurney onto which he had been strapped down standing as silent witness to the terrors that Oliver had experienced there.

"Looks like the doc ain't here yet," said Carter. "Why don't you take a seat while we're waiting."

With that he pushed Oliver in the direction of a chair which sat close to one wall. Oliver stumbled, before finding his footing and doing as he was told. As he sat down his eyes scanned the room, looking for the all important security cameras. He could see only one, and to his relief the light which indicated that it was active was off. There was to be no session today, so clearly the camera was not required; at last Oliver had the break that he needed.

Carter slumped down into another chair next to the door, placing his gun onto a tray on top of a table. He was getting careless, just as Oliver had hoped; the chance would come soon now, very soon....

"You know something, Queen, that bitch of yours is real pretty. And she's got spirit, she sure has got spirit! I like that in a woman, I really do. Hey, how's about this for an idea? While you and Akunin are making out, why don't I keep Miss Sullivan company? Show her what a real man can do, rather than some wannabe freak like you."

Carter continued to describe what he intended to do to Chloe, but Oliver wasn't listening. His heart pounding in his chest, his mind was making a dozen calculations every second; his distance from Carter, the angle of attack, Carter's possible counter-moves.....everything necessary to make good on the plan that had in an instant taken shape in his brain. He didn't have long, for Thomas could arrive at any second. He had to do it now, if he was going to do it at all....

"Why the hell don't you shut up, you worthless piece of shit!"

Oliver's words, so forceful and clear, brought Carter to a halt mid-sentence. He looked across to where Oliver sat, his expression a mixture of incredulity and anger.

"What did you say?" he asked, his features clouding with rage. His prisoner had dared to defy him, had dared to speak – for this he would have to pay.

"I said, why the hell don't you shut up, you worthless piece of shit."

Oliver repeated his words in a matter-of-fact way, like a teacher repeating an instruction for a student who hadn't been listening the first time around.

"You don't learn, do you, Queen?" said Carter, beginning to walk towards where Oliver sat. "Well I guess I'm just going to have to teach you some manners all over again."

As Carter strode resolutely towards him Oliver noted to his relief that he had left the gun on the tray. The man really had become complacent – and now that complacency would cost him his life.

"Taste some of this, you....." Again Carter's words were cut off mid-sentence, but this time it was no calculated insult from his captive that caused the big man to stop. Instead it was a sudden burning sensation in his eyes, causing him to cry out in pain. He stumbled backwards, clasping his hands to his face and trying to make sense of what had happened. His brain barely had time to register that Oliver had thrown the contents of some jar at him before he found himself being propelled backwards with great force, in a split second hitting a wall in a bone-shuddering impact. _I'm under attack,_ he thought to himself, not quite believing what seemed like an incredible turn of events. _Queen is attacking me!_

As his adversary reeled from the consequences of his initial assault, Oliver pressed home his advantage. He'd hoped that the greenish liquid in the jar was toxic, but its effects on Carter had exceeded his wildest expectations; he'd only expected to gain a split second advantage by throwing it into his face, but to find his foe temporarily blinded seemed almost too good to be true. However, there had been no time to enjoy his good luck, but instead he had leapt from his chair and driven the full force of his body into Carter. Already disorientated, Oliver's second attack once again had the desired effect, preventing Carter from recovering and regaining his advantage over his captive. As the big man winced in pain as his body collided with the wall, Oliver took hold of his head and smashed it backwards against its hard surface, causing Carter to cry out in pain before he stumbled blindly forward. Oliver could see that his eyes remained tightly shut, and his face now appeared burnt and contorted in pain; the chemical was still exercising a debilitating effect on the man. Oliver did not pause, but instead manoeuvred himself behind Carter before reaching over his head and placing the thick chain that joined his handcuffs together against the man's windpipe. He then pulled back with all the strength he could muster. In an instant Carter realised what was happening, his hands grasping at the chain to release himself from the chokehold. It was to no avail; Oliver's grip was unrelenting. Seconds passed, Carter's attempts to free himself becoming ever more desperate, but still Oliver would not let go, even as the big man tried to loosen his grip by swinging his unseen assailant first to the left, and then to the right. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, Oliver could feel Carter's strength beginning to fade. The two men slumped to the ground, Carter's body resting on top of Oliver's as the man who had for so long delighted in inflicting pain and suffering on others finally lost his hopeless struggle for survival. At last Carter fell still, but still Oliver maintained his lethal hold on the man's neck for another ten to fifteen seconds; after all that he had endured at the hands of this sadist, something within him refused to let go until there was absolutely no chance of life remaining in the corpse of his jailer.

Eventually Oliver released his grip, lying back for a few moments to allow his body to recover. He could not quite believe that his improvised plan had worked, but it had – he was free! A feeling of excitement, of exhilaration, suddenly took hold of him, as for the first time in what seemed like an eternity he came to terms with the fact that _he_ now held the initiative. For so long he had been forced to play Lex's games, dancing like a puppet to his every whim; now, at last, he was in control. He knew that he was very far from being safe, and that everything could still end in disaster, for both himself and his friends, but at least now he would be able to fight, and yes, perhaps even die, on his terms. It was a sweet feeling, a liberating feeling, and for a few seconds he allowed himself the luxury of enjoying this longed for moment of freedom.

He did not allow his indulgence to last too long, however. His mind already filling with thoughts of how he might find Chloe and the others, he pushed Carter's lifeless body to one side. He then checked the man's pockets, and soon found what he was looking for – a bunch of keys. On the fourth attempt he found the one he needed, the handcuffs springing open to complete the turnaround in his fortunes. It was then he heard the sound of footsteps coming down a corridor. For a split second he wondered if his escape attempt had been discovered, if his struggle with Carter had indeed been witnessed by some unseen guard watching in a control room nearby. But these were not the booted feet of approaching LuthorCorp security; these were measured, unhurried steps, steps that he recognised.....

Acting almost on instinct, he made a dash for Carter's gun, which still lay on the tray where its owner had so carelessly left it. Picking it up, he then moved to the side of the door, his heart beating hard in his chest as he readied himself for his next encounter. He was just in time, for no sooner had he taken up his position when the door swung open, and Dr Thomas walked inside. He immediately stopped dead as his eyes fell on Carter's body, but Oliver did not give him time to reach for the alarm button which was placed next to the door.

"Don't move," hissed Oliver, pressing the barrel of the gun against the side of the startled doctor's head. "Do exactly as I tell you, and maybe, just maybe, I won't kill you."

* * *

So at last Ollie's fighting back, and one villain gets what he deserves! Don't think that this escape is going to be easy, though - still some twists and turns to come, and loads more angst (of course).

Thanks SO much for leaving feedback - I can't tell you how much it makes all the work worthwhile. Please do keep letting me know what you think. I've got more time to write now, so back to weekly updates - next chapter should be posted at the weekend.


	32. Chapter 32: An Unbreakable Bond

**Chapter Thirty Two: An Unbreakable Bond**

Ten minutes had passed since Chloe had learnt the truth about what Akunin had planned, ten minutes in which neither woman had said a word. The silence that filled the room was oppressive, and heavy with expectation. For Chloe, bound helplessly to the chair, there was dread about what was to come, the bed that stood in front of her an unavoidable reminder of how her love had been violated once, and was soon to be violated again. For Akunin, staring at her captive with eyes that seemed to sparkle with exultation, there was only excitement, the thrill of what was to come; taking Oliver in front of Chloe would surely break the bond that united them, and complete her triumph over the supposedly invulnerable hero. He would not recover from this, she was sure of it, and the sight of Chloe's tear-stained and desolate face when at last the effects of the drug wore off would finally snuff out any last hope Queen might have had of achieving redemption. He would face Lex's torments knowing that he had betrayed the woman he loved in the most terrible way imaginable, giving himself to another woman whilst she was forced to look on as a helpless spectator. No one could survive that – not even the great Oliver Queen.

There was a knock at the door, causing Chloe to tense visibly. Akunin smiled, knowing that at last the moment she had waited for had arrived.

"Come in."

The door opened, and Dr Thomas entered the room.

"Where's Carter?" asked Akunin, slightly surprised to find the doctor standing in front of her. For a split second she thought that perhaps her plan would have to wait a minute or two longer, but Thomas soon reassured her.

"He was called away," replied Thomas, his eyes flicking nervously between Akunin and Chloe. "He told me to deliver Mr Queen instead."

"And has my handsome hero been prepared as I instructed?"

"Yes...yes... exactly as you instructed." Thomas appeared agitated, uncertain, but Akunin did not let this bother her; she was already preparing mentally for the pleasures that lay ahead.

"Well bring him in, doctor, bring him in – Chloe and I are both keen to see our gorgeous lover boy once more."

Thomas stepped out of the room, only to return almost instantly, this time with Oliver at his side. As soon as he appeared Chloe looked to his face for some sigh of reassurance, some signal that it would all be okay. There was none; instead the young man stared straight ahead, emotionless, his features fixed. He was not bound in any way, but there was no sign that he was prepared to offer any resistance to his captors, or that he was acting under duress. This was not the Oliver that she had seen hours earlier, animated and desperate as he had begged for the life of his friend, but instead a shadow of that man. Outwardly this was Oliver Queen, but behind the eyes there was nothing; a husk of a hero, his spirit gone. He had been drugged, that much was obvious, but it didn't make his lifeless appearance any easier to bear.

"Oliver...." she whispered, hoping for some sign of recognition. The young man turned to look at her, responding to the sound of his name, but the eyes that looked back at her were blank and unknowing. It was a look that broke her heart.

"He doesn't seem to recognise you, Chloe – how quickly he forgets!"

Akunin's words, gloating and malicious, were calculated to provoke a response; they did not disappoint.

"You've drugged him, do you think I can't see that! You've drugged him, you bitch! Nothing you do to him is real, do you hear me? Nothing! He loves me, and all this is just a charade, a twisted little charade!" Chloe's words were desperate, her voice breaking as the tears started to roll down her cheeks. "Oliver, listen to me! Whatever she's given to you you've got to fight it, do you hear? You must fight it!"

"I'm sorry, Chloe, but this is one battle the Green Arrow can't win," said Akunin, staring down at the woman who now sobbed uncontrollably in front of her. "The drug that Dr Thomas here has administered is quite effective. Oliver is mine – and I intend to take him, just as I promised."

"It won't mean anything," said Chloe, her voice cracking with emotion. She looked from Akunin to Oliver, still hoping in vain for some sign of hope. There was none; the young hero continued to stand motionless, apparently impervious to the scene that was unfolding. Akunin moved the two or three paces necessary to stand beside him, her eyes greedily surveying his body like a diner eager to feast on the main course.

"Ahh, but it will, Chloe, it will!" she continued, placing a hand on his chest. If taking Oliver was to be the main course, then taunting Chloe was the hors d'ouvre; the pain on her captive's face as she allowed her hand to slide suggestively across the taut expanse of his pectoral muscles only whetted her appetite for what was to come.

"You may say it means nothing, but deep down inside you know the truth – you know that when you see your hero in my arms, when you see the two of us making love on that bed, then the bond that unites you will be destroyed," she said, looking across at Chloe as her hand moved upwards towards Oliver's still unmoving face.

"It's not true," whispered Chloe.

"It is true, Chloe - you know it's true," continued Akunin, now stroking Oliver's face with a sickening tenderness. "And then, of course, I will have won – I will have finally destroyed the one thing that Oliver here has clung on to all these long days he has spent in captivity."

"Please.....don't do this....please!" Chloe's voice was almost inaudible now, her pleas nearly drowned out by the flood of tears that flowed unchecked down her cheeks.

For Oliver, the sound of Chloe's sobs were almost too much to bear. He wanted to go to her, scoop her up in his arms and hold her close, reassure her that it was all going to be okay, that the nightmare was coming to an end. But he could not; instead he had to maintain the illusion that he was once again under the influence of one of Thomas's drugs. Out of the corner of his eye he could still see the doctor, standing nervously by the door. To an outsider the man's behaviour was certainly unusual, rivulets of sweat pouring from his forehead and his eyes darting this way and that. Fortunately for Oliver, Akunin was too preoccupied with her little game to pay much attention to Thomas, and Oliver knew that the gun that now lay hidden in his utility belt, as well as the sight of Carter's broken body back in his laboratory, were enough to prevent the doctor from sounding the alarm. All Oliver had to do was to find the right moment to strike, but he wasn't prepared to take any chances, especially with Chloe a prisoner and Akunin expert in close quarter fighting. He needed to be certain that when he attacked, she would have no way of fighting back, and until she took off her jacket he lacked that certainty. A gun could be hidden in an inside pocket, and, although he would have the element of surprise, he could not guarantee that in the ensuing fight Chloe would not get hurt. So he had to wait; wait as the woman he so desperately wanted to hold in his arms once more had her heart broken by Akunin's twisted game, wait even as every fibre of his being felt physically repelled by the touch of his captor on his skin.

"I'm sorry, Chloe, but I have no choice – I must do this," said Akunin, at last withdrawing her hand from Oliver's cheek. "Oliver, take off your tunic."

Like a man under a spell, Oliver did as he was told, slipping out of his leather tunic and placing it carefully on the bed.

"My, my, you truly are magnificent, Oliver!" said Akunin, standing back to admire the young hero's perfectly sculpted physique. "Perfection in human form, wouldn't you agree, Chloe?"

Chloe did not respond, but simply stared up at Oliver's face. She knew that what she dreaded could now only be a matter of minutes away, and her sense of powerlessness was overwhelming. With all her heart she willed him to wake up, to break free of the drug that she believed now held him in its thrall, but even as she hoped for a miracle so her head told her to prepare for her worst nightmare to become a reality. Still there was no flicker of recognition from Oliver, and, reconciled to the inevitable, her head fell forward in resignation.

Eager now to make good on her promise to possess the man who now stood before her, Akunin at last presented Oliver with the opportunity he needed. Turning to face Chloe, she began to remove her jacket.....

"What's the matter, Chloe? Don't you want to see what your hero can do with a real woman?" she said, taking off her jacket and throwing it over the back of a nearby chair.

"I'm already in love with a real woman, and she's worth a million times more than you'll ever be, you sadistic bitch!" Oliver's words, at once both unexpected and electrifying, seemed to bring everything in the room to a temporary halt. Akunin could not at first believe what she had heard, but before her mind had had time to make sense of what to her appeared impossible, she felt a man's forearm around her neck, pulling her backwards. She reached upwards, even as she felt the press of Oliver's chest against her back, but escape from Oliver's vice-like grip was impossible. She had been tricked – and now she was the prisoner.

"One move and I won't hesitate to kill you, do you understand?" said Oliver urgently, the pump of the adrenalin surging through his body sounding in his words. As he spoke he pulled the gun from his belt with his free hand, and pressed the barrel hard against Akunin's temple.

"I said, do you understand?" Oliver repeated his question, this time pressing the gun even harder against the young woman's skull.

"I understand," said Akunin, her voice mechanical, devoid of emotion.

"Are you okay?" asked Oliver, looking now across at Chloe. She looked back at him, her jaw agape; her mind still had not fully adjusted to the dramatic turn of events. One second she was resigned to seeing her love desecrated in the cruellest way imaginable, the next she found herself staring up at Oliver holding a gun against Akunin's head. It seemed like a dream, but there was no denying what her eyes told her, and her heart leapt to see Oliver apparently once more the hero she had fallen in love with all those months before. The Green Arrow was back, strong, determined and utterly in control; it was a moment Chloe knew would be impressed on her memory forever.

"I'm...I'm fine," she stammered, her eyes wide and full of joy at what seemed nothing short of a miracle.

"It's going to be okay, I promise," said Oliver. His voice, authoritative and reassuring, sent a shiver down Chloe's back. How long had she waited to hear that voice again! To think of all those days she had thought that she had lost him forever, and now he was back, here, in front of her, her hero made flesh! It was a sublime moment, and one which at a stroke seemed to sweep away all the tears and anguish of the past few weeks. He was back, and it was going to be okay – that was all she needed to know.

"Doctor, untie her," ordered Oliver. The doctor did as he was told, and within a few seconds Chloe found herself free of her bonds.

"Chloe, you need to tie him up," said Oliver. "Can you do that?"

"Yes...yes, I can do it," replied Chloe, who then gestured to the doctor to sit on the chair she had previously occupied. She then proceeded to bind the doctor hand and foot, taking care to ensure that he was tied up securely.

"You're a brave man, Queen, I'll give you that. Brave – but stupid." Akunin's voice was calm now, she having recovered from the shock of Oliver's unexpected assault and the sudden turnaround in her fortunes. "Do you really think you can make it out of here alive? The place is swarming with security. And when my men take you and Miss Sullivan I promise you that you will pay for this little escapade – or rather, Miss Sullivan will pay, with her life."

"Shut your mouth, you sick bitch!" ordered Oliver, pressing the muzzle of the gun deeper into Akunin's flesh. He was angered by the threat made towards Chloe, and was determined not to allow Akunin to begin playing her mind games.

"Surrender, Queen – your position is hopeless."

"I don't think so, do you? Now let me tell you how this is going to play out. Chloe and I are going to pick up our friends and then we are going to walk right out of here, and you are going to help us, do you understand? Because if you don't, I _will _kill you, I promise you."

"You haven't got the guts, boy," replied Akunin, her lip curling with contempt for the man who now held her life in his hands.

"You don't think so? Try asking your pet ape Carter about that – he might give you a different perspective," said Oliver, his voice hard and controlled. "But then you might have a problem getting him to say much – corpses generally aren't great conversationalists."

The colour drained slightly from Akunin's cheeks as she digested the meaning of Oliver's words. Her mind was working in overdrive, considering all the possible permutations for how the drama that was now unfolding might play out. She knew that the cards were still very much stacked in her favour, and that Oliver and Chloe had very little chance of making good on their intention of making it out of the LuthorCorp building alive. But at that moment she knew that Oliver was in the ascendant, and that the man who now held a gun to her head was desperate enough to do anything, including kill. Cooperation was the only sensible course of action, at least for the time being.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked, after a moment's pause. Her voice was businesslike, and betrayed not a hint of fear at what might lie ahead.

"Call security – tell them there's a suspected intruder on the twenty-sixth floor. Order all your men to that floor to conduct a full security sweep."

"That's your plan? It won't work."

"Just do it," said Oliver, releasing his grip on Akunin and pushing her away. She turned, to find Oliver still training the gun at her head.

"No tricks," he warned, as Akunin reached across to her jacket to retrieve her cell.

Within seconds Akunin had made the call, ordering her men to the twenty-sixth floor. As she gave the instructions she never once allowed her eyes to move from Oliver, who returned her gaze with equal intensity; each was aware that one lapse in concentration on Oliver's part could result in a second sudden reversal of fortune.

"What next?" she asked, her voice cold and clinical.

"Now you're going to show us where you're keeping my friends," replied Oliver.

"As you wish," said Akunin. She paused for an instant, before reaching once again for her jacket.

"You won't be needing that," said Oliver, a hint of irritation in his voice.

"But I will need my security card if I am to access the cells," said Akunin, looking across Oliver.

Oliver considered for a moment, before gesturing for Akunin to go ahead. It was a mistake, the opportunity that Akunin had been waiting for. As she picked up the jacket she allowed it to slip to the floor, apparently by accident. As she reached down to pick it up her right hand moved towards one of her boots, on the inside of which she kept hidden a tiny knife. In a split second she slipped the knife from its sheath, before pivoting round and hurling the weapon at her captor. Oliver did not have a chance; thrown at such close range and with surprise on her side, Akunin found her target. The blade cut into Oliver's shoulder, causing the young man to cry out in pain. The wound was not deep, but Akunin was not seeking to kill, or even maim; all she wanted was for Oliver to drop the gun. In this she was successful, the weapon falling from his hand under the shock of the impact. Almost before it had hit the floor Akunin had grabbed it. She then stood up in triumph, training the gun at Oliver's head.

It had only taken a few seconds, but the success of Akunin's actions was total. As Oliver pulled the knife from his flesh he once again found himself looking down the barrel of a gun, a prisoner.

"Nice try, Queen," she said, her eyes flashing with excitement. "Now drop the knife, and keep your hands where I can see them."

Slowly Oliver did as he was told.

"Miss Sullivan, move next to lover boy," continued Akunin, turning her attention to Chloe. Her face filled with terror and despair, Chloe slowly did as she was ordered. Instinctively she took hold of Oliver's arm, seeking reassurance in the feel of his skin. Responding to her touch, Oliver looked down at her. Their eyes met, and in an instant the two were once more as one, united as lovers by a bond that both knew no torment known to man could break.

"How touching," sneered Akunin. "Now what to do with the two of you, I wonder? Such misbehaviour cannot go unpunished, after all."

Chloe's grip on Oliver's arm tightened slightly as instinctively she realised that whatever penalty Akunin devised, it would be designed to inflict the maximum amount of harm on the young man who stood beside her.

" Lie down on the bed," said Akunin eventually, her lips twisting into a smile as she looked at Oliver. For a moment he did not move, but when Akunin trained the gun on Chloe it was clear that had no choice; reluctantly he lay down as he had been instructed, never once taking his eyes off the gun that was now pointing at Chloe.

"Now Miss Sullivan, chain up our hero."

Chloe's eyes widened at Akunin's command. She froze, her stomach churning as her mind turned over all the possibilities of where this might be leading. Was Akunin going to make good on her promise to take Oliver? Was she going to torture him in front of her? It was all too unbearable, too terrible to contemplate.

"I won't do it."

"Do it, or I will shoot pretty boy in the kneecap. Lex needs him alive, but he doesn't have to be able to walk."

"Chloe, it's okay." Oliver's voice was reassuring, and as Chloe looked across at her lover she saw a look of understanding that said she was not to worry, not be afraid; whatever happened, nothing could now come between them.

At last Chloe did as she was told, shackling Oliver's wrists to the bed frame using the handcuffs that were fixed there. No one spoke as she gently clipped the manacles in place, the atmosphere pregnant with foreboding of what might happen next. When she finished she paused, staring once more into Oliver's deep brown eyes. At that moment they appeared to her to be the most beautiful pair of eyes in the world. How she had missed him! The aching sense of loss that had gnawed away at her since she had heard of his supposed death had been so terrible, but now, staring into those beautiful eyes, the idea that the miracle of discovering him alive was to be snatched away from her seemed to make all the pain of the previous weeks pale into insignificance. It was so cruel, so unfair! As tears welled up in her eyes and began to fall silently down her cheeks she leaned in towards him, placing her lips against his. He responded, each sensing that this might be the last time they would be together, able to share the joy of intimacy that only a kiss between two lovers could bring. It was a moment of exquisite tenderness, an act of such purity that for a split second the two of them felt transported away from all the dangers and obscenities that surrounded them.

"That's enough," said Akunin angrily, grabbing Chloe and pulling her away. Chloe fell to the floor awkwardly, before she felt a hand take hold of her hair and drag her into the centre of the room. She made to get up, but felt the press of a gun against her head.

"Stay down," Akunin hissed.

"What the hell are you doing? Get your hands off her, you bitch!" Oliver's voice, angry and desperate, filled the room. He pulled against the chains that now held him secure, eager to protect Chloe from the attentions of Akunin. It was hopeless, and he could only look on as Akunin revealed the full horror of the punishment she had devised.

"Trying to escape is something that carries with it a heavy penalty, leather boy. Unfortunately for Miss Sullivan here, it is she who will now have to pay for your disobedience." Akunin's voice was venomous; gone was any trace of the calmness that had so often been her trademark.

"What do you mean?" said Oliver, unable to mask the panic in his voice. "Look, don't hurt her, please. It's me you want to punish, not her – she didn't do anything. Hurt me, do whatever you want to me, just please, leave her alone."

"I do intend to hurt you, Oliver, in a way you will never forget," said Akunin, her words filled with cold malice. She paused for a moment, looking down at the young woman who now knelt cowering before her. She had seen the tenderness of the kiss Chloe had shared with Oliver, and it filled her with a rage that now threatened to consume her. She had taken Oliver, and she could do so again, but the kiss that she had just witnessed had exposed the hollowness of her triumph. The two people whose lives she now held in her hands shared a love so profound that no matter how many times she made love to the young hero, she would never be able to break the bond that united the Green Arrow with his pretty young reporter. Theirs was a love that no torture, no humiliation, could destroy. It was a love that Akunin could recognise, but never enjoy; emotionally she knew that her soul was incapable of experiencing what they had. That fact filled her with an anger and jealousy that demanded satisfaction. She wanted to destroy what she could not have, to inflict pain on those who were capable of feelings that she had never, would never, enjoy. She knew what she had to do, and prepared to make good on her threat.

"Time to die, Chloe Sullivan," said Akunin, her finger pressing down on the trigger of the gun.

"No!" screamed Oliver, before the room reverberated to the sound of a single shot.

* * *

Is Chloe dead? I'm not saying, but remember that in my fics nothing is off-limits! I promised you some twists and turns, and it's not over yet....

Thanks for reading, and above all thanks to those of you who post feedback. I love getting reviews, so please do let me know what you think - even a short review makes my day! Next chapter in a week, by which time we should know more about Season Nine after Comic Con. Some Chlollie? We can hope. At the very least, I'm hoping Chloe and Ollie get some good (and positive) storylines next season.


	33. Chapter 33: I'll Always Be With You

**Chapter Thirty Three: I'll Always Be With You**

The sound of the gunshot echoed across the room, and for a moment it was as if time had stood still. Chloe, her eyes tightly shut, waited for the end, not sure what the end might be. Would she feel pain? Would death be instant, one second alive, the next, just nothingness? The questions filled her mind, until suddenly she realised that something was wrong. Why was she still thinking? The shot had been fired, but she was still thinking...._she was still alive!_ Was this another of Akunin's games? Had she been wounded? Mentally she checked herself over, but she could sense no injury. What was happening? It made no sense......

Then it hit her. Had Akunin fired at Oliver? Was he her victim, now lying on that bed, an ever-growing pool of inky red blood staining those pure white sheets? It was a terrible image that she now conjured to her mind, and one that she feared would greet her when she opened her eyes. She didn't want to have her worst fears confirmed, but she had to know, she had to know what had happened.....

The sight that greeted her was wholly unexpected, and one that she could never have imagined. There was a pool of blood, the result of the gunshot. But the blood did not stain the sheets of the bed, where Oliver still lay, chained but apparently unharmed. Instead it was forming a large pool on the floor in front of her, just reaching her jeans as she continued to kneel on the hard surface. For a split second Chloe was puzzled, baffled by the seemingly inexplicable. And then she saw her – Akunin. No longer was the woman who had planned to kill standing over her, mistress of all she surveyed. Instead she lay face down on the floor, unmoving, the blood seeping from some unseen wound.

Akunin had been shot! It was impossible. Chloe looked across to Oliver for some explanation, but for once he did not return her gaze. He was staring at something behind her, something she knew must be located at the entrance to the room. She turned, and in an instant understood what had happened, and the look of astonishment on Oliver's face. There, framed in the doorway, stood Jimmy. His eyes were wide, filled with a mixture of fear and excitement, and he seemed rooted to the spot. In his hand he held a gun, still pointing in the direction of where Akunin had stood, just seconds before.

"Jimmy!" she gasped, struggling to take in the sight of the young photographer whose actions had just saved her life.

"I...I...couldn't let her kill you.....I had to shoot," he replied, his eyes transfixed by the sight of Akunin's body lying still on the floor. It was clear that he was in some kind of shock, the reality of taking a life leaving him momentarily stunned.

"Jimmy, it's okay, you did the right thing," said Chloe, getting to her feet. Adrenalin pumping through her veins, her practical instincts quickly took over; in an instant she was rifling through Akunin's jacket, looking for the keys to the handcuffs that shackled Oliver to the bed. It did not take her long to find them, and soon she was able to release him from his bonds.

It was as Oliver got to his feet that Jimmy found himself coming back to reality. The shock of having taken a life rapidly gave way to recollections of how he had come to find himself standing in the doorway, a gun in his hand. He thought of how he had escaped from his cell, how he had knocked a LuthorCorp security guard unconscious and stolen his gun, how he had come across Dr Thomas escorting Oliver down a corridor, and how he had followed them to this place. He had listened from the corridor as the events of the last five minutes had unfolded, unsure about what to do for the best. However, when he had heard Akunin make clear her intention to kill Chloe, he knew he had no choice; his hand trembling, he had stepped forward, and without hesitation fired a bullet straight into the woman who threatened Chloe's life.

He had saved Chloe's life! That thought lifted his heart as nothing else had been able to do since his self-inflicted nightmare had begun with that act of betrayal all those days ago now. She was alive, and it was down to him; at last he had done the right thing. It was not enough to wipe away all that he had done, but it was something, and he felt for a short moment that perhaps he would be able to achieve redemption after all. He hadn't needed a costume or a special power to be a hero, and whatever happened now, he felt comforted that he had at last achieved what he had set out to do.

But now it was time for him to face the consequences of his actions. He looked across at Oliver, who now stood by the bed as Chloe tended the wound to his shoulder. He had betrayed him, a man whose only crime was to be loved by the woman he wanted to make his own. He had left Oliver Queen to die, and condemned his friends to captivity and whatever torments Lex's twisted mind could devise. His guilt was obvious, and now he knew that he had to answer for his crimes.

"I....I'm sorry Oliver.... this is all my fault," he began, his voice tremulous as he looked at the man he had abandoned to his fate. "I....I....didn't want this to happen....you've got to believe me.....but Lex .....Lex......" He was unable to complete his sentence, his attempts to find words to excuse his actions failing. Tears welled up in his eyes, and began falling down his cheeks.

"It's okay Jimmy, I understand," said Oliver, stepping across to where Jimmy stood and placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Believe me, I know how powerful Thomas's drugs can be – I saw what they did to AC. If Lex gave you the same treatment then you had no choice – you had to do what he told you."

Jimmy stared at the man who now so generously offered him words of comfort and support. Was this some sort of dream? Or perhaps a trick? He fully expected Oliver to attack him, to beat him to a pulp for what he had done. Instead there was this – could it be real? Quickly his mind adjusted to the words he had heard, but could not quite believe. _Oliver thought he had been drugged_! It seemed incredible, but the look in Oliver's eyes confirmed Jimmy's sense that the young hero had meant what he said. Lex clearly hadn't told Oliver the truth about his betrayal, and so the conclusion he had reached – that Jimmy must have acted against his will – must have seemed the one that made the most sense. After all, both AC and Oliver had been drugged and forced to do their captors' bidding – why not him? Oliver had no idea about how Jimmy felt about Chloe, about how he longed to make her his own, so why should he suspect the motives of the apparently innocent photographer? It all made sense, and in an instant Jimmy realised that he had been the beneficiary of a most unexpected miracle. He had betrayed a man, put so many in harm's way – but maybe, just maybe, he was going to get away with it.

"Yeah....yeah.... I guess you're right," he stammered, still not quite believing his luck.

"I know I'm right," replied Oliver, smiling reassuringly back at the nervous figure who seemed to visibly shrink before him. "You have nothing to blame yourself for, Jimmy – nothing. There's only one man responsible for all this, and that's Lex."

"That's right, Jimmy," said Chloe, moving to stand next to Oliver and taking him by the arm. "You saved my life – and I'll never forget that."

Jimmy looked at the two of them. They had endured so much, but at that moment, as they stood arm in arm, they looked so right together – a perfect couple, so obviously deeply in love. Jimmy wondered at their naivety, their willingness to see the goodness in others which promised to be his salvation. But he also felt a pang of jealousy, that Oliver could command the affection of the woman that he so desperately wanted for himself. He knew that he had done wrong, and he was thankful that some unseen hand had intervened to save him from the humiliation of exposure – at least for now. But he still wanted Chloe – and he still resented the man who stood between him and true happiness.

Oliver turned to where Thomas sat, still bound to the chair where Chloe had left him. Gone was the clinical demeanour of the man who had day after day so ruthlessly tortured him, to be replaced by a pathetic figure, who physically trembled under Oliver's harsh gaze.

"So, doctor," said Oliver, beginning to untie Thomas's hands. "Looks like you'll have to show us where my friends are."

"I...I .....don't know where they are."

Oliver paused, before stepping over to where Akunin's body lay on the floor. He picked up the gun that had fallen from her hand, before turning and levelling it straight at the doctor's head.

"Then I guess we've got no more use for you," he said, his finger tightening on the trigger.

"No! Please....don't shoot! I'll take you to them, just please, don't shoot!" The doctor's voice was filled with terror; having witnessed the fate of Carter and Akunin, he had no doubt that Oliver would kill him without a moment's hesitation.

For a split second Oliver continued to level the gun at Thomas, before letting his arm drop.

"I guessed you might need a little persuasion," he said, something of the Green Arrow's famous insouciance returning to his voice.

"But you'll need her key card. I can't get you into their cell without her key card."

"Chloe, finish untying him," said Oliver, before reaching down and picking up Akunin's jacket. He searched in the pockets for the card, but found nothing. Having turned up a blank, he reluctantly leaned down and turned Akunin's body over onto its back. He immediately saw what he was looking for; the key card hung around her neck, partially hidden by her blouse.

"You'll never make it out of here alive."

A voice, weak but all too familiar, made Oliver freeze. His eyes flicked in an instant from the key card to Akunin's face. His former tormentor stared back at him, her eyes wide, but completely without fear.

"Don't bet on that," he replied, recovering from his initial shock that she was still alive. He reached down and pulled the key from her neck, but was stopped when Akunin grabbed him by the arm. Despite the fact that her life was ebbing away by the second, her grip was surprisingly strong; she knew she didn't have long, but she wanted to snatch one final victory over the young hero whose destruction had become her obsession.

"Even if you do make it out, you'll never forget me," she whispered, her words suffused with malignancy. "You'll never forget what I did to you, Oliver Queen – I'll be with you until the day you die. Remember what I told you? _I'm inside you. _I'll be there when you sleep – I'll be in the nightmares that will haunt you. You'll always be mine, Oliver – you'll never escape me."

Oliver said nothing, but simply stared down at the woman who even as she lay dying was demonstrating her immense power over him. His blood ran cold as he reflected on her words, words which he knew contained a terrible truth. Physical wounds would heel, he knew that, but psychologically the damage that his ordeal had wrought upon him was incalculable. She had violated him, and as the images of the two of them making love flashed through his mind he knew that she was right – those were images that he would never be able to forget, even if he lived another sixty years.

After a second or two he pulled his arm free and stood upright. He said nothing to Akunin, not wishing to give her the satisfaction of a response. Instead he turned to the others, the key card clasped in his hand.

"Okay, doc, lead the way."

Within seconds the four of them had gone, leaving Akunin lying alone on the floor. She could feel her life force slipping away, but despite this a strange smile formed on her lips. It was a smile of victory, a smile born of the knowledge that in many ways her mission was accomplished.

She had set out to destroy Oliver Queen, to humble the man who seemed to have it all, and she had succeeded; his life would never be the same again.

_You'll never forget me, Oliver. I'll always be with you._

* * *

Did any of you see that coming? This isn't the last twist I've got in store, I promise. Has Jimmy done enough to achieve redemption? Will he be exposed? Will Bart and Victor be rescued? What will happen when Lex and Ollie meet? Is Akunin really dead? Will Clark make an appearance? All will be revealed in the next few chapters!

I'm so excited about the show after all the news from ComicCon, especially the fact that Oliver will be in 16 episodes next season. Will we get some Chlollie on screen? We'll have to wait and see. I certainly hope that we don't have to wait too long for Oliver to find his way back and take up the mantle of the Green Arrow once more.

Thanks for reading, and for all your amazing reviews! Please do keep letting me know what you think - I love your feedback, and every review, however short, really gives me a lift. See you next week!


	34. Chapter 34: A New Mission

**Chapter Thirty Four: A New Mission**

It took Oliver and the others two minutes to make their way to the cell where Bart and Victor were being held. No one spoke as they walked down corridor after corridor, each of them acutely sensitive to any sound that might indicate they were not alone. On Oliver's instructions, Akunin had sent her men to the top of the LuthorCorp building, and presumably even as they moved to release their friends the guards were conducting a comprehensive security sweep for an intruder that did not exist. However, they knew that they could take nothing for granted, and that some guards might still be roaming the corridors, ready to sound the alarm at the slightest hint that Lex's prize captive was attempting to make his escape.

They were right to be cautious. As they turned the final corner to their destination they came face to face with a lone security guard, clearly left to watch over the remaining members of the Justice League. Fortunately for Oliver, the man was more surprised to see them than they were to see him; a kick to the gut and two swift punches to the head soon rendered him unconscious. Oliver then pulled the key card from his tunic, and inserted it into the electronic lock. A green light immediately signalled that access had been granted, and Oliver pushed open the heavy steel door.

Inside they found Victor and Bart, each gagged and bound with shackles that hung from the ceiling. As the door swung open both men looked upwards, each expecting the worst; the sight of Oliver standing before them caused their eyes to widen in amazement and hope.

"Hey guys, we're getting out of here," said Oliver, confident and assured. He then moved across to where Victor was chained, pulling the gag from his lips.

"What took you so long?" said Victor, his voice sounding parched through lack of water. Oliver half smiled in response, Victor's words reminding him of the wise cracks they had shared so many times before on League missions. But for both men, something was missing; each knew that, even if they were now to make good their escape, the team would never be the same again. They had watched AC die, and the memory of their friend's death hung heavy in the air.

"Where's the key?" asked Oliver, pulling on the shackles.

"The guard will have them," replied Victor.

Oliver quickly retrieved the key, and soon Victor was released. He then moved on to Bart, who said nothing as the tape was pulled from his mouth and his hands released from the chains. The teenager simply stared towards the doorway, where Jimmy stood. Both men knew what the other was thinking; both were remembering their last meeting, when Jimmy had helped Akunin gain access to Oliver's apartment and capture Bart. The photographer did not make eye contact with Bart, but stood nervously behind Chloe and the doctor, as if in some way they would shield him from the confrontation that must now come.

"Okay guys, now we've...." Oliver's words as he released Bart from the last handcuff that restrained him were cut short by Bart flying past him in the direction of Jimmy. He barrelled into the young man at high speed, hurling him against the wall. Jimmy cried out in pain, and then raised his hands to his head to protect himself from the blows that rained down on him from the enraged teenager.

"You killed him! You killed AC, you traitor!" Bart's words, angry and desperate, filled the chamber as he continued to pummel his fists into Jimmy's body. Jimmy slipped to the floor and tried to roll himself into a ball to protect himself, but Bart was unrelenting, delivering punch after punch to his head and stomach. It was a frenzied attack, and took everyone by surprise; by the time Oliver and Victor had managed to pull Bart away blood was streaming from Jimmy's nose and a cut above his eye.

"He betrayed us, man, he betrayed us!" shouted Bart, still struggling violently against the grip of Oliver and Victor.

"Listen to me, Bart, listen to me!" demanded Oliver. Sensing that the young man's struggling was starting to subside, he nodded to Victor to let go. He then stood between Bart and Jimmy, holding the teenager firmly by each arm like a parent seeking to control a wayward child.

"He betrayed us, Oliver – I was there, I saw it!" said Bart, anger gradually giving way to desperation.

"It was the drug, Bart – it was one of Lex's drugs! They used them to control AC, and they used them to control Jimmy. He had no choice to do what he did – just as AC had no choice when he lured me into a trap." Oliver tried to keep his voice calm; he needed Bart, and unless the young hero could get a hold of his emotions he would be no use to anyone.

Bart looked at Oliver for a moment, searching his face as if trying to find the truth.

"Believe me, Bart – I need you to believe me. Can you do that?"

There was a pause, Bart glancing over Oliver's shoulder to where Chloe now knelt beside Jimmy tending to his wounds. She looked back at him, her expression confirming what Oliver had told him.

"Okay, dude, okay! I believe you," he said at last, his voice now quiet.

"We're going to get out of here, okay? We're going to get out of here and we're going to close down Lex's operation for good."

Confident at last the Bart's anger had gone, Oliver finally released his grip. To everyone's relief he did not lunge at Jimmy, who by now had got to his feet. The two men eyed each other warily. To Jimmy it was all too clear that whatever Oliver had said, Bart did not entirely buy it; there was suspicion behind his eyes, a sense that the teenager could not quite accept that what he had seen back at Oliver's penthouse was entirely the result of some mind control substance.

"Doctor, how many of Lex's security team work down here?" asked Oliver, his tone now businesslike.

"Six."

"And who else knows about what goes on here?"

"No one – Mr Luthor is very particular about keeping this operation secret."

Oliver allowed himself a half smile. Lex had gone to great pains to keep his subterranean torture chamber a secret from the world; now he would turn that against him.

"Okay doctor, here's what you're going to do. You're going to get those men down here now. Tell them you need them in your lab – I don't care how you do it, but do it, okay?"

The doctor nodded.

"Victor, feel able to take down a few of Lex's apes?"

"I'm not as strong as I normally am – whatever virus Lex infected me with, it sure is effective," replied Victor. "But hey, if we're only talking six guys – no problem, man."

"Good," said Oliver, who then gestured for Victor to follow him to the far side of the room. The two men then began to talk with their backs to the others; a plan was clearly being hatched, but for some reason Oliver did not want the others to know, yet at least.

"I'm watching you, dude," said Bart, still staring at Jimmy. "One step out of line and you'll wish you'd never been born, do you hear?"

"Bart, he had no choice – you've got to understand that," said Chloe, trying to build on the work Oliver had done a few moments before in convincing the sceptical hero that Jimmy was not the enemy, but a victim like the rest of them. "He saved my life, Bart – is that the action of a traitor?"

Bart did not reply, but turned away. Chloe could see that he was hurting, and she suspected that the source of his pain was not Jimmy, but the horror that they had all witnessed hours earlier. One member of the team was not with them, and would never join them again; the murder of AC was something they would all struggle to recover from, and something they would all have to deal with in their own way.

"Okay guys, this is what we're going to do", said Oliver, commanding everyone's attention as he and Victor turned to face them. "The doc is going to lure six of Lex's men down here, but Victor and Bart are going to give them a welcome that they won't be expecting. Chloe, I want you to stay with Bart and Victor – you'll be safe with them. Jimmy, I want you to follow me – when we get to ground level I want you to get out of this building. If something goes wrong you're to call the cops, okay?"

"Shouldn't we all just get out of here?" asked Jimmy.

"And give Lex time to cover his tracks? I don't think so. No, this ends here – and it ends now."

"But Chloe – wouldn't it be better if she came with me? What if something goes wrong? What if Lex realises what's happening?"

"I'm staying." Chloe's response to Jimmy's concern was firm and unequivocal. She had committed herself to bringing Lex to his knees, and after what she had witnessed her determination was stronger than ever. Watchtower would not be passive, playing the role of some hapless damsel in distress; she would stand by her man, and support him, whatever might lie ahead.

"Don't worry, Jimmy, Chloe will be safe with Bart and Victor. And I don't think we need to worry about Lex – he's going to have other things to worry about."

The meaning of Oliver's words was not lost on Chloe. Silence filled the room, and for a few moments there was a stillness that contrasted starkly with the frenetic activity of the last hour. Chloe stared at Oliver, her eyes filled with a mixture of concern and complete understanding.

"You're going after him, aren't you?" she said quietly, moving to stand in front of him.

Oliver, all too conscious that his lover knew what he intended to do, stared down at Chloe, gently placing the palm of his hand against her cheek.

"You know I have to," he said calmly. "This is about me and Lex – it always has been. Tonight it must end – Lex must face justice for what he has done."

Oliver's heart almost broke as he looked into the eyes of his lover. They were sad eyes, fearful eyes, but they were also the eyes of a woman who understood him – who understood that whatever her worries, nothing could divert him from the course he had decided upon. She looked so beautiful at that moment – a combination of strength and fragility – and he hoped more than anything in the world that when this nightmare was over, he would be able to make her understand just how much he adored her, how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

"Be careful, okay? Remember you've promised me a trip to Paris," said Chloe, her forced smile standing in contrast to the tears which now ran freely down her cheeks.

"I love you Chloe – don't ever forget that. I love you more than anything else in the world."

His words were too much for her. She flung herself into his arms, and in an instant the two of them were sharing a kiss of such intensity and passion it was as if they might never see each other again. Indeed, both knew that that might be the outcome of the confrontation to come, and so in their embrace they sought to remember every taste, every scent, every touch. For a few moments they abandoned themselves to their emotions, forgetting the others in the depths of their love. Bart and Victor turned away, wanting to give the two of them some semblance of privacy, but Jimmy continued to watch as they embraced. Deep within him the jealousy that had corrupted him stirred once more; _he _wanted to be experiencing that kiss, enjoying that unconditional love. It was as if his deliverance from exposure had allowed his darker instincts to re-emerge; for a brief moment he found himself once more resenting Oliver, wishing he were still Lex's prisoner in that cage....

At last Oliver and Chloe separated, tears still running down the young woman's cheeks. Oliver, not trusting his emotions, turned to the others, eager now to begin the next stage of his plan.

"Okay Jimmy, let's go," he said determinedly, glancing across at Victor and Bart as he made towards the door.

"Good luck, bro," said Victor, his features fixed in grim resolution. "We won't let you down."

"I know you won't," replied Oliver, glancing one final time across at Chloe and trying to fix her face in his memory. He then turned, and in an instant was gone.

* * *

So you can guess what's coming next! Still some twists to come, but we are nearing the climax of this story. Unfortunately there will be no update next week - I'm going to lose my internet connection in a few days, and I could be offline for a week! (I don't know how I'm going to survive - not that I'm addicted or anything). I will be writing whilst I'm away, so look for an update in a fortnight. In the meantime thanks for reading, and of course thanks to all who take the time to review - please do keep letting me know what you think!


	35. Chapter 35: Turning the Tables

**Chapter Thirty Five: Turning the Tables**

Oliver and Jimmy stood silently in the elevator, each lost in thought as it edged them ever closer to their destination. For Oliver, there was at last time to reflect after the frantic activity of the previous hour. As he watched the electronic display mark the passage of each floor he thought about the last time he had stood there, in very different circumstances. Then he had been a prisoner, being delivered to the subterranean world which Lex had constructed to torture and break him. There had been times during his long captivity that he had thought he would never escape, that Lex truly had triumphed, but now he was here once more, no longer a captive, but instead an avenging instrument of justice. AC's face appeared in his mind, his broad smile a reminder of happier times, when the team he had created had appeared untouchable. That air of invincibility was gone now, of course – lost forever in the horror of the young hero's cold blooded murder. A new image suddenly appeared in his mind, the memory of AC's lifeless body lying on that hard laboratory floor, those terrible unseeing eyes staring blankly into space. Oliver's face hardened at the thought of his friend's final moments, and his hand tightened around the gun which he carried by his side. _Lex must pay for what he has done_, he thought to himself. _Whatever the cost, this must end – here, tonight._

Jimmy too was lost in thought as the elevator continued its journey upwards. He still could not quite believe his luck, that Oliver, Chloe and the others accepted that he had been Lex's unwitting pawn, rather than a free agent responsible for the betrayals that had befallen them. Bart still did not fully trust him, that much was clear, but the suspicions of the teenager would fade with time, he was sure of that. Akunin was dead, Carter was dead – only Lex now had the power to expose him, but that was the problem. Oliver was determined to confront his nemesis – the grim air of determination etched on the features of the young man who stood opposite him left no doubt about his intentions. What would happen when the two met? What would Lex say? To Jimmy, it seemed all too plausible that Lex would reveal the truth about how he had betrayed them all; Lex would want to hit out at Oliver in whatever way he could, and what better way to hurt him than to reveal he had been double-crossed by a man he thought he could trust? Once the truth was out, of course, it would be all over – Chloe would disown him, never want to see him again. Oliver would sweep her off her feet, and he would be left with nothing. It was all too unbearable to contemplate, but the thought of losing Chloe forever loomed ever larger in his mind. His luck was running out, and running out fast.....

At last the elevator slid silently to a halt, the sound of the electronic bell signalling they had reached their destination. The doors opened, Oliver cautiously checking that the corridor beyond was clear before signalling to Jimmy to follow.

"Okay Jimmy, you know what to do," said Oliver, his voice filled with focused resolution. "Give us one hour – if we're not out by then, call the police."

Jimmy nodded in reply, his eyes wide with nervous tension.

"Good luck," said Oliver, patting him on the shoulder as if to reassure the young photographer that his fears were unfounded. He then pulled his hood up and over his head, before turning and moving off quickly down the corridor in the direction of Lex's office. Jimmy watched as he disappeared around the corner, before glancing in the other direction, towards the exit and safety. That was where his mission lay, but instead of moving off he found himself rooted to the spot. To leave now was the obvious thing to do, the right thing to do, but it would reduce him to the status of a bystander, unable to influence his fate, even to know what his fate might be. He could not bear that thought – the thought of not knowing what had passed between Lex and Oliver, of whether or not he had been exposed. He _had_ to know what Lex said – at that moment all other thoughts or concerns were driven from his mind. Who knows, perhaps an opportunity might present itself for him to save himself from exposure – but only if he followed his instinct for self- preservation.

In an instant his hesitation was over.

He turned, and set off in the same direction as Oliver – the direction of Lex's office.

* * *

Lex sat at his desk, his eyes scanning a set of LuthorCorp papers that demanded his attention. His preoccupation with Oliver's torture and the capture of the Justice League had meant that he had pushed his business affairs to one side over the previous few days, but he could put them off no longer; as a result he had spent the last two hours working through the pile of documents that had built up in his in-tray since Oliver's arrival. Not that he had found it easy to concentrate, memories of AC's death continually recurring in his mind. The exhilaration he had felt at the moment he had plunged the syringe into the helpless hero's neck had been unbelievable; to hold the power of life and death over another human being, and to take a life, gave him a sense of power and fulfilment that was almost indescribable. He guessed that this must have been what the emperors of ancient Rome had felt, as they decided the fates of countless gladiators in the arena with the simple movement of a thumb up or down. The only difference now was that in Lex's arena there was no chance of a reprieve; the fate of the Justice League was sealed, and nothing could change it. Tomorrow Bart Allen would die, and then Victor Stone. And then would come the final triumph, as he would force Oliver to watch as he took the life of his beloved Chloe. At last his victory would be complete – Oliver's destruction would be total. Would he then kill Oliver? He had not made up his mind about that yet. Part of him wanted to kill him, to feel the rush that would inevitably come as he pressed the gun against Oliver's head and gently squeezed the trigger. But then it would all be over – and he didn't want this to be over. He wanted to keep Oliver alive, a broken man left only with his memories, a plaything to torment and abuse as he saw fit. The possibilities were endless, and Lex could not prevent his mind from turning them over and over in his head as his eyes continued to scan the papers, reading but not truly seeing.

At last he reached the end of the final document, signing it off before placing it on top of the other files he had worked his way through. A glance at his watch revealed that it was getting late, but before he set off for home he could not resist taking one final look at his prisoner. Typing in the access codes to the surveillance system, he waited as the live feed from Oliver's cell began to play on his computer. The picture that eventually appeared was not, however, the picture that Lex expected. The cage could be seen, but to Lex's surprise there was no sign of Oliver – the cage stood empty. Lex stared at the image for a moment, more irritated than concerned. Believing that either Carter or Akunin had taken the opportunity presented by his absence to play their own games with his captive, he reached for his intercom, typing in Akunin's number; he had left strict instructions that Oliver was to be left alone, and was determined to vent his feelings on whichever of his two henchmen had taken it on themselves to indulge their own twisted pleasures.

"Miss Akunin, why is our guest not in his quarters as I ordered?"

Silence greeted Lex's question.

"Miss Akunin, I asked you a question. I expect...."

"An answer? Forget it, Lex – your tame dominatrix has taken her last instruction from you."

Lex's heart missed a beat. That voice – strong, clear, unmistakable – could it really be? In an instant his eyes turned towards the door to his office, from where the words had come. The sight that greeted him momentarily left him dumbstruck.

There, silhouetted in the doorway, stood the Green Arrow, a gun in his hand. The gun was pointed directly at him.

"What's the matter, Lex? You don't look so good."

Lex sat motionless for a moment. He could feel the color draining from his cheeks, and as his brain tried to process what seemed like an impossible turn of events he felt a knot of fear take hold of his gut. How had this happened? How had he escaped? After all the security precautions he had taken, all the elaborate measures he had put in place to ensure that Oliver never emerged from the subterranean world he had created to contain him, how could it be that his adversary now stood before him, once more the hooded hero who had plagued him for so long?

"You're wondering how I got here?" asked Oliver, anticipating Lex's thoughts. "Well much as I've enjoyed your hospitality, Lex, but me and the guys have decided to bring this little show of yours to an early end. It's time you faced justice, Lex – this ends, and it ends here, tonight."

"You'll never get out of this building alive," said Lex, at last finding his voice. Already his mind was in overdrive, weighing options and calculating possibilities; he had to find a way of regaining the initiative, whatever the cost.

"That's where you're wrong, Lex. We're walking right out of here, and we're taking you with you us. We're turning you in, Lex – after we've given evidence, the authorities will have enough to put you away for a lifetime."

"And where will that leave your double-life, Oliver? Do you think I'm going to keep your fetish for green leather a secret?"

"That doesn't matter – none of it matters anymore," replied Oliver, his voice now hardening. "All that matters is that you pay for what you did to AC. Now get up – and no sudden moves. Remember, I know about the gun you keep hidden under that desk."

Lex recalled the last encounter he'd had with the Green Arrow in his office, an encounter that had resulted in him being shot. Realising that a repeat of that incident would likely result in him receiving a far more serious wound second time around, Lex slowly did as he was ordered.

"What now?"

"Get over here, and keep your hands where I can see them."

Lex began to move towards where Oliver stood, never once taking his eyes from the gun that the young hero had trained upon him. He was trapped, and he was all too aware that time was running out. He didn't know what had happened to his security team, but he guessed from Oliver's confident manner that in some way they had been neutralised, presumably by the remaining members of the League. He could expect no help from them, at least in the short term; if he was to regain the initiative he knew he would have to act for himself. Oliver had the gun, but he could not be the man he once was – the weeks of torture must have taken their toll. If he could just take advantage of the element of surprise, then maybe, just maybe....

At last Lex found himself within striking range of his captor. Suddenly, without warning, he threw himself at Oliver, driving him into the wall. The attack caught Oliver off guard, and, just as Lex hoped, the gun fell from his hand under the force of the impact before sliding across the floor. Lex made a lunge for it, and for a split second experienced the elation of finding his hand clasping its handle. The joy was short-lived; a shattering blow to his gut from a heavy boot sent him rolling in agony across the room. He then felt Oliver's hands grabbing him and dragging him upwards, before he in turn was slammed against a wall.

"You don't learn, do you, Lex?" shouted Oliver, his voice filled with a breathless anger that was both unusual and unnerving. Lex looked at the man who now held him pinned against the wall, his eyes blazing with fury. There was something wild about Oliver, something unrestrained; as if Lex's attempt to escape had triggered the release of some dark force that had long lain hidden beneath the veneer of control and cool that the Green Arrow had made his trademark. Looking at Oliver at that moment, Lex realised he had made a terrible mistake. All the torture, all the humiliations, above all the murder of AC, all these things were now finding release in a fury that would not easily be contained. He was looking into the eyes of a man who was determined to have vengeance – and a man whose rage was nothing less than murderous.

"You're going to pay for what you did to AC, you son-of-a-bitch!" hissed Oliver, his hands moving to Lex's neck. Too late, Lex realised the danger; pathetically he tried to claw away the hands that now tightened around his windpipe, choking off the supply of air to his lungs.

Lex's eyes widened as panic took hold of his senses. He tried to speak, to beg for mercy, but the eyes that looked back at him held no compassion, only hate.

Oliver had decided that justice was not to be delayed.

Lex would answer for his crimes with his life, and he would answer now.

* * *

Sorry for the delay with this chapter. I had to spend a week without web access - torture! So we're moving towards the climax of this story, as you can see, but there are still two or three surprises to come. Can you guess what will happen next? There is a BIG surprise coming in the next chapter, I promise.

Thanks for reading, and especially for reviewing. Please do post a review if you can - even a short one means so much! Hope to have the next chapter up in a week or so - until then, keep the Chlollie love alive!


	36. Chapter 36: Resurrection

**Chapter Thirty Six: Resurrection**

Oliver's hands tightened around Lex's neck, his thumbs pressing down on the other man's windpipe and choking off the supply of air to his lungs. Lex's complexion began to change color, his eyes widening with fear as he realised that the man he had so mercilessly tormented now seemed intent on murdering him in cold blood. Oliver saw that fear – and it made him feel good. The adrenalin that now surged through his veins, giving him a strength that seemed impossible after all he had endured, was adrenalin fuelled by hate. Something inside him had snapped, and all the pain, all the anger, had broken loose; his need to punish the man he now held by the throat was overwhelming. Why should he hand Lex over to the authorities? Lex would find a way to evade justice – he always did. He'd hire some hotshot lawyers who'd tie the legal process up in knots for months, if not years, and then what? Then he'd get off on some technicality. Oliver could see it in his mind's eye, Lex's smiling face emerging from some courthouse, professing his faith in the American legal process.

_Not this time, Lex – not this time. This time you WILL face justice for what you've done, I'll see to that._

Lex was a cold-blooded killer. He had taken the life of a man Oliver had loved as a brother, and he had enjoyed it. Again the memory of AC's face appeared in his mind, the image of the young wise-cracking hero almost instantaneously morphing into that terrible picture of his lifeless corpse, with those cold, dead eyes. Lex had done that, and he had laughed as he had plunged that deadly syringe into AC's neck - he must be made to pay, of that there was no question. His guilt was undeniable, so why should not he, Oliver Queen, simply carry out the only sentence that came close to giving his friend justice, and take his life? He would be doing the world a service, and ridding it of a man who ruined the lives of all he touched. This was justice – raw, undiluted, empowering. Oliver felt liberated, as at last it appeared he would be able to assuage the guilt he felt at being able to do nothing to save his friend. Lex would die – and then AC would be able to rest in peace.

It was at that moment another image pushed itself to the forefront of his mind, an image of the woman who had given his life a new meaning and who had sustained him through the long days of captivity.

Chloe.

What would Chloe make of what he was doing? Would she want him to kill Lex in cold blood? In his heart he knew the answer to that question, and for the first time since his hands had closed around Lex's neck an element of doubt formed in his mind. She wouldn't want him to do this. She would want him to bring Lex to justice, but through the courts – not like this. He could hear her voice in his head, telling him that he was better than this, that to kill Lex with his bare hands would not bring AC back, would not help him to come to terms with the death of his friend. It would only give rise to new demons, and demons that would continue to haunt him to his dying day. He would have become a murderer, a killer no better than Lex himself. He would have become the very thing that he had devoted his life to fighting against – was that what he wanted? Is that what AC would have wanted? This was a mistake, a terrible mistake...

At last Oliver's grip loosened, and Lex was able to take a gulp of life-saving air. But Oliver did not remove his hands from Lex's throat, and the man who just a moment earlier had been seconds from death had no knowledge of the doubts that were taking hold of his adversary's mind. To Lex, Oliver still appeared intent on killing him. He had inexplicably been granted a reprieve, and, desperate to save himself, he was not going to let it slip from his grasp.

"Kill me and you'll never know the truth about Curry," he gasped, every word painful as his bruised throat struggled to recover from Oliver's attack.

For a moment the full meaning of Lex's words did not strike home. What did he mean – "the truth"? The truth was all too clear – he had murdered AC in cold blood. What more was there to say? Unless....

"What do you mean, the truth?"

"He's alive – Curry's alive!"

_Alive!_

It seemed incredible, unbelievable, but there was no denying what Lex had just said - _AC was alive!_ Oliver struggled to comprehend the remarkable revelation that in an instant seemed to turn everything he knew, everything he thought he knew, upside down. But it was impossible, wasn't it? He'd seen AC die, they all had. How could he be alive? The memory of AC's dead eyes once again forced itself to the forefront of Oliver's mind – there had been no life there, only an awful, unforgettable emptiness. This was a trick, surely? A desperate last throw of the dice from a man who would say anything to stay alive. And yet.... What if it were true? Could such a miracle really be possible?

"You're lying," said Oliver, his hands tightening once more around Lex's throat; whatever hopes he was harbouring at that moment, he wanted to keep them hidden from the man whose words held out the prospect of an apparently impossible resurrection.

"Why would I lie?" said Lex, the speed and pitch of his voice betraying his growing panic as once again he felt the press of Oliver's hands against his windpipe. "Do you really think I would kill someone with Curry's abilities? Thomas's drug simply simulated death – what you saw was a lie, what I wanted you to see. He's alive, Oliver, I promise – I can take you to him."

Oliver stared at Lex for a moment, searching his eyes for any sign that what he had just said was anything but the truth. He could find none – just the look of a man stripped of his power and dignity, cornered and desperate to live.

"If you're lying..."

"I'm not lying, I give you my word."

At that a hint of a smile flickered across Oliver's lips. Since when had Lex's words been worth anything? Without saying another word, he swung Lex around, before slamming him once more into the wall. Lex winced as he felt his arms being pulled behind his back, and metal cuffs – no doubt stolen from some LuthorCorp employee - being fastened roughly around his wrists. Lex didn't see Oliver stoop down to recover the gun, but he was made all too aware of it when again Oliver swung him round to face him.

"Show me," ordered Oliver, brandishing the weapon just inches form Lex's face. "Any tricks, and I'll put a bullet in your head, understand?"

Lex nodded slightly to indicate his compliance. He said nothing, but cautiously began to move towards the door, all too conscious of Oliver's presence at his back. He was the prisoner now – and it hurt more than words could express.

The two men walked moved through the apparently deserted LuthorCorp building in silence, each lost in his own thoughts. It was late, so the empty corridors came as no surprise to Lex; it was obvious that the other members of Oliver's team had in some way neutralised his security detail. To an observer Lex would have appeared calm, his features impassive and betraying no emotion as he led the way towards where AC was being held. Inside, however, it was a different story. The rage that Lex felt at having allowed Oliver to get the upper hand threatened to overwhelm him. How had he escaped? He cursed Akunin and Carter – their overconfidence had led to this, he was sure of it. If they were dead he felt no pity – they deserved their fate for their stupidity in letting their guards down. Lex's anger was powerful, but so was his survival instinct. He was determined to escape from Oliver's clutches and turn the tables once more on his enemy. As he walked down corridor after corridor his mind was in overdrive, assessing any and every opportunity to regain the upper hand. The man who walked behind him understood this; after all his years of rivalry with the Luthors, Oliver knew his adversary almost as well as he knew himself. He was on his guard, alert to even the slightest sign of danger, but at the same time he could not help but think of the miracle that might await him once they finally reached their destination. _AC – alive! _However many times he said it to himself, he still could not quite believe it – it seemed too unreal. Would he really find his friend alive? Would the team he had created once more be reunited, their air of invulnerability restored?

It was time to find out.

Lex had come to a halt in front of a door. There was nothing to indicate what lay beyond was of any importance; the electronic keypad that controlled access was standard throughout much of the LuthorCorp building. Oliver, his heart beating a little faster in his chest, noted their location from the sign that indicated entry to a nearby stairwell – Level Four.

"The code is 2698320," said Lex, his voice flat and without emotion.

Casting a glance at Lex to see if there was any sign that he was walking into a trap, Oliver proceeded to punch the code into the keypad. No sooner had he pressed the final number when a green light flashed on the display screen, and there was the sound of a lock mechanism springing into life.

They were in.

"You first," ordered Oliver, gesturing with the gun for Lex to open the door. Lex did as he was told, carefully opening the heavy door and stepping inside. Oliver, his gun at the ready, cautiously followed.

The sight that greeted Oliver was at once both miraculous and profoundly distressing. There, just a few feet in front of him in the centre of the room, was AC. Oliver had expected his old friend to be restrained in some way, perhaps shackled to a gurney, but instead he floated silently in what appeared to be some giant test tube, filled with a green liquid . Wires protruded from the device, and banks of computers appeared to be monitoring all activity within the chamber. AC showed no signs of movement; his eyes were closed, and a tube ran from his mouth off towards the back his watery prison. For Oliver, it was all too clear what Lex had intended to take place in that room. The tube, the equipment, it all meant just one thing – AC was a lab rat, a specimen. Oliver shuddered to think of what terrors his friend might have had to endure in the weeks and months to come as Lex's pet scientists had got to work on him, bent on discovering all they could about his abilities and how they could exploit them.

"What have you done to him," whispered Oliver, unable to take his eyes from AC's unmoving form.

"Don't worry, he's alive," replied Lex, something of his former self-confidence returning to his voice.

Oliver's instinct was to run over to the apparatus, smash the tube into a thousand pieces and free his friend. Concern about the effects of any rash action on AC's health, and above all an awareness of the potential danger Lex still posed, prevented him; whatever emotions he might feel, he knew that he had to remain focused and alert. He turned towards Lex, and instantly saw what he was looking for standing behind him. A large fixed cabinet presented Oliver with the opportunity to make his prisoner secure, and it took only a few seconds to uncuff Lex before chaining him to its the doors. Confident that Lex was going nowhere, he turned his attention back to AC, moving across to the banks of computers that appeared to be monitoring the young hero's life signs. The displays were baffling, and instantly Oliver knew he was going to need help if he was to get his friend to safety.

"I need to get through to Thomas's laboratory," demanded Oliver, not bothering to turn around.

"764 will give you a direct line," replied Lex.

Focused on making contact with Victor and the others, Oliver immediately punched the number into the communication system; fatally, he failed to register the subtle change in tone of the voice of the man he believed he had made secure.

"Cyborg, do you read me? Come in Cyborg."

There was a slight pause, before Victor's voice sounded across the room.

"Hearing you loud and clear, Green Arrow. Hostiles are neutralised, as you requested. I repeat – hostiles have been neutralised."

"I need you here, guys – now. It's Aquaman – he's alive." Oliver tried to keep his voice calm, but he could not hide the excitement that saying those words gave him.

"Say again, Arrow?"

"AC – he's alive!"

There was a slight pause, and a great yell of delight could be heard somewhere down the line. Oliver smiled – Bart had heard the news.

"I'm on Level Four – come quick."

"On our way, Arrow – Cyborg out."

The line to Thomas's lab was cut, and for a split second Oliver allowed himself to relax. His ordeal – their ordeal – was coming to an end, and in a way that none of them would have thought possible even just a couple of hours before. They were going to have a happy ending after all – the Justice League triumphant once more.

A sound.

Behind him – a sound. But it couldn't be. He'd.....

Oliver did not have time to turn around before he was struck on the head from behind. The blow was powerful, and he was helpless to protect himself from the inevitable; immediately he slumped to the floor, unconscious.

Standing over him, his heart thumping in his chest and sweat dripping down the sides of his face, was not the man Oliver might have expected to attack him.

It was not Lex who now leaned down to pick up the gun that had fallen from Oliver's hand.

It was Jimmy Olsen.

* * *

I promised you some twists, didn't I? How many of you saw that one coming? I couldn't kill off AC permanently - I love the guy too much (and besides, I may want to put him through some more angst in another story....). What's Jimmy going to do? All I'll say is that this story has only three or four more chapters to go, and some of you may be surprised by the ending...

Thanks for reading. Please do leave some feedback if you can - it means so much, and it is always a bit disappointing when very few people let you know what they think. To all my reviewers, I say a HUGE thankyou - I would not still be writing without you.


	37. Chapter 37: The Temptations of the Devil

**Chapter Thirty Seven: The Temptations of the Devil**

His heart pumping in his chest so hard he thought it was about to burst, Jimmy stooped down to pick up the gun. Its touch gave him a feeling of reassurance, the sense that the gamble that he had decided to take was paying off. As he stood up he looked down at Oliver, for a split second gripped by the fear that his attack had not had the desired effect, and that the young hero might be about to come round. Again he was reassured, as Oliver lay unmoving before him. Still, he needed to know for sure – for his plan to work it was essential that Oliver was unconscious. Tentatively he placed his foot against his rival's side, pausing to see if there was any reaction, any sign of a response. There was none. His confidence growing, he then pushed his foot forward and downwards, rolling Oliver over onto his back. Again there was no sign of movement from his stricken rival, whose head lolled lifelessly to the side, his closed eyes giving him a strange air of peacefulness after all the terrors and drama of the previous hours and days.

There was no doubt about it – Oliver Queen was out for the count.

"I had hoped someone might save me from our mutual friend, but never for a moment did I expect it to be you. Jimmy Olsen takes out the Green Arrow – I'm impressed Jimmy, I really am."

Lex's voice, clear and confident, sounded somewhere behind Jimmy. The photographer did not respond, but instead looked down at the gun that he now clasped in his hand. The moment had come, he knew that – the moment when he had to finish what he'd started, and free himself from the nightmare that had trapped him for too long. Could he do it? He wasn't sure. All he did know was that if he didn't do it – if he didn't seize this last chance to save himself – then he would lose Chloe forever.

"I'll see you're well rewarded for this, Jimmy," continued Lex, now a little uneasy at the lack of response from the man who continued to stand motionless in the center of the room. "Preventing leather boy there from getting away – that's something I won't forget, I promise you."

"I don't want your money," said Jimmy, his voice sounding strange and unfamiliar. At last he turned around, allowing Lex for the first time since his attack on Oliver to catch sight of his face. It was a sight that did nothing to quell Lex's growing sense of unease; the young man's eyes blazed wildly, and his features were fixed into a terrible appearance of grim resolution.

"So...what do you want, Jimmy? Get these cuffs off me and we can talk...."

"I'm done talking!" interrupted Jimmy, raising the gun and pointing it directly at Lex's head. "You wanna know what I want, Luthor? I want you out of my life, out of Chloe's life, forever. And _that's _what this is about, Lex – making sure you'll never be able to hurt anyone ever again!"

Jimmy's voice trembled as he spoke, and even from where he stood Lex could see the gun shaking in Jimmy's hand. The two men stared at each other, neither one speaking as each took in the full meaning of Jimmy's words and prepared for what might happen next. Lex instantly recognised that for the second time in less than an hour his life was in jeopardy, this time from a man whose state of mind was extremely volatile. He'd been foolish to assume that Jimmy was here to come to his aid – why should he? After all, he'd ordered his death, and had betrayed the promises he'd made to protect Chloe with a casualness that now seemed reckless. Jimmy Olsen was a man possessed with a love for Chloe that was nothing less than obsessive, and that was what made this normally harmless individual now so potentially lethal. Lex had threatened the woman he loved, and had the power to ruin him in her eyes by revealing the truth about his betrayals. It was clear to Lex that to Jimmy he was an obstacle to his happiness, a loose end that had to be tied up if he was to retain any hope of making Chloe his own. He was in danger, he knew that, but he could also see an opportunity; the same obsession that now threatened to destroy him could be made to work to his advantage, if only he could channel it in a new direction, away from himself, and towards the man who lay unconscious just a few feet away.....

Of the two it might have appeared that Jimmy held the upper hand. He had the gun, and was apparently master of the situation. However, in his head a maelstrom of thoughts and emotions combined to ensure that it was he, and not Lex, who was in danger of losing it. He was so close to completing the plan that had taken shape in his mind as he had stalked Oliver through the LuthorCorp building. Lex was the one person left who had the power to expose him, to drive an immovable wedge between him and Chloe. He could not allow that to happen – he could not live in a world where Chloe Sullivan hated him, despised him. The conclusion was at once both obvious, and terrifying – Lex had to die. He'd thought that Oliver would relieve him of the responsibility, as he had watched him nearly strangle Lex to death back in his office. Why had he not finished the job! It would have all been so easy then. But Oliver had pulled back, and now, with the discovery of AC, it was clear that Oliver would not do what Jimmy desperately needed. He was going to let Lex live, and it could only be a matter of time before the truth about what Jimmy had done would be revealed. He couldn't allow that – and so here he was, a gun in his hand, staring at a man who he knew he must kill.

And yet he hesitated. He'd already killed once, but Akunin had been different. She'd been threatening Chloe, and had he not acted Chloe would not be alive now. This was something else altogether – standing face to face with an unarmed man, and shooting him dead in cold blood. Could he do it? He had to do it, and yet....

"You don't want to do this, Jimmy," said Lex, his voice calm and measured. He could see the fear in Jimmy's eyes, the uncertainty, and he knew that that was something he could work on, something he could use until he was able to redirect Jimmy's murderous intent.

"Don't tell me what I want!" said Jimmy, his voice no less tense than when he had spoken a few moments earlier. "I'm in control here, Lex, do you understand that? I'm in control!"

"Easy, Jimmy, easy – no one said you weren't in control."

"This is all your fault, do you know that Lex? If you'd just done what you'd promised then none of this would have happened."

"I know Jimmy, I know – and I'm sorry, I truly am. I should never have drawn Chloe and yourself into this, I can see that now. But killing me isn't going to solve anything, Jimmy – you know that."

"That's where you're wrong, Lex – killing you will solve everything! Only you know what I did – with you gone, everything can go back to just how it was before."

"And that's what you want, is it? Everything as it was before? You know that's a lie, Jimmy."

Lex had waited patiently for his opportunity – and now it had come. He could see that his last words – calculated to play on the young man's vulnerability – had hit their target. It was time to press home his advantage.

"What you want, Jimmy, is Chloe – we both know that. And going back to things as they were before, well, that's not going to give you the woman you love, is it?"

"She loves Oliver, not me – I was a fool to think anything else."

"She loves him now, but what about in the future? Time can be a great healer, Jimmy. With Oliver out of the way who knows what might happen? The two of you are already close, and with no one else to cloud her vision perhaps that love that you cherish so much would at last find the response you've yearned for all this time?"

Lex could see the doubts clouding Jimmy's face. He was tapping into Jimmy's subconscious, the instincts that had led him to his betrayal of Oliver in the first place. It was clear they had not gone away, but were just lying dormant. Now, however, those instincts were awakening once more – with a little more encouragement, Lex was confident they would once more be in the ascendant.

"Only one thing is certain, Jimmy – if you allow Oliver to escape, then you will never have a chance with Chloe. I'm not the enemy here, Jimmy – your real enemy lies over there on the floor."

Lex's words, so reasonable, so persuasive, so evil, were working just as their author had intended. To Jimmy, all that Lex said was the truth. He wanted to escape from the nightmare that he had created for himself, but now, being reminded of what that escape might bring, Jimmy could not help but think of the future that Lex predicted. Oliver would make Chloe his own, and he would once more be relegated to the role of loyal friend – good old reliable Jimmy, the man who everyone liked, but who no one loved. _It was so unfair!_ He could make Chloe happier than Queen ever could, but how could he compete against his looks, his wealth, his charm? Once more the anger and jealousy that had so disfigured him in recent days reared its head. He wanted Chloe, more than anything else in the world, and he didn't want to share her, not with anyone...

"You know I'm right, Jimmy," continued Lex, like the devil tempting a good man into the abyss. "But the future is in your hands – don't let it slip from your grasp! One bullet and you could be rid of Queen forever – how good does that sound! No one would ever know – when the others get here I could say he was ambushed by one of my men. They'd never know it was you - it could be so easy! Don't miss the opportunity – kill him, Jimmy! You know that deep down it's the only way you'll ever gain what you really want."

Lex's arguments, so unstoppably seductive, echoed around Jimmy's mind, silencing all others. Why shouldn't he do it – why shouldn't he kill Oliver? It was what he really wanted after all, wasn't it? And Lex was right – it could be so easy! Jimmy turned to his side and looked down at Oliver's body, still and apparently at peace. The sight of Oliver's face, the face that Chloe adored and which she seemed destined to wake up next to for the rest of her life, suddenly filled him with hate. He would change that destiny – he would have the woman he loved! Queen was not worthy of her, and if she could not see that, if she was taken in by his flattery and his superficiality, then he would do them all a service by removing Oliver from the picture altogether.

"Do it, Jimmy! There's not much time – shoot him now!"

Finally succumbing to the darker instincts which Lex had sensed were lurking within him, Jimmy slowly turned the gun towards Oliver, before raising it and levelling it at his head. Jimmy paused for a moment, considering how strange and terrible the last few days had been. Who'd have thought a month earlier that he would be standing where he was at that instant, seconds away from killing the mighty Green Arrow? He, Jimmy Olsen, would achieve what every criminal in Metropolis longed to do – he would kill the vigilante who had plagued them for so long. It seemed so incredible, but also so exhilarating, to hold the life of one so powerful in his hands. A half smile formed on his lips, as he thought of how stupid Oliver had been, to trust him without even considering that darker motives might be at work. Poor, dumb Oliver, always wanting to think the best of people. Well this time, his trusting nature would cost him his life.

The time had come – no more delays. It was time to rid himself of his rival, once and for all.

It was then that he noticed something. His hand – it had stopped trembling. Was it a sign? A sign that the course of action to which he was now committed was the right one?

No more time to think.

Jimmy took careful aim at Oliver's head, just a few feet away. His finger tightened on the trigger....

"Goodbye, Oliver – I'm sorry, but Lex is right, there is no other way."

* * *

Sorry for the delay - the site wouldn't let me upload this yesterday.

Another cliffhanger - well, I couldn't finish the story without one, could I? I enjoyed writing about Jimmy's struggle between the light and the shade, and Lex was born to play the role of evil tempter towards the dark side. Will Jimmy shoot Oliver? Will Lex survive? Will Jimmy survive? Not long to wait for the answers, as we've only got two more chapters to go.

Please do post some feedback if you can - I SO appreciate it!


	38. Chapter 38: Escape

**Chapter Thirty Eight: Escape**

"_This is Level Four – he must be along here somewhere."_

Jimmy froze.

A voice – familiar, close.

The guys – they were here! He shot a glance across at the door, which to his horror stood ajar. From the sound of the voice he'd heard – Victor's, as far as he could tell – they were not too far away. Panic stricken, his eyes fell on Lex. The other man did not speak, but from the intensity of his glare it was clear what he was thinking.

_Do it! Do it now, before it's too late!_

Jimmy looked down at Oliver, who lay so helpless before him. Once more he levelled the gun at the young hero's head, but this time there was no confidence in his grip; his hand shook as the fear of discovery and exposure took hold of him.

"_Oliver, where are you? Where's AC?"_

Chloe's voice! The sound of it almost caused Jimmy's legs to give way. He couldn't kill him, not now – the risk was too great. In an instant Jimmy's thoughts turned from murder to self-preservation. His eyes darted around the room, desperately searching for a place to hide; he knew that to be found here, standing over Oliver's unconscious body, would raise questions that even his lies could not fully explain away. It took less than a second for him to identify what he was looking for – a door, located in the far corner of the chamber. Desperately he dashed towards it, praying that it would be unlocked. The voices were getting close now, and he knew that if this door didn't provide him with the way out he needed, he would be cornered, with no means of escape...

_Please don't be locked! Please!_

He took hold of the handle.....

_It's unlocked! _

Relief flooding through him, he pulled open the door. What he found was not the escape route he had hoped for, but instead some sort of control room, filled with yet more computers. It was not ideal, but he didn't have time to seek out an alternative; hoping that his luck would hold, he quickly closed the door behind him, plunging himself into darkness.

For a moment there was silence, only the sound of Jimmy's heart thumping in his chest piercing the gloom of his hiding place. And then he heard them – they had found Oliver.

"_Oliver! Oliver – please no!"_

Chloe's voice – desperate, fearful. Jimmy could tell that the sight of Oliver's body had led her to fear the worst, and ruefully he thought of how close he had come to making that fear a reality. He continued to listen, trying to make out every word of what was said, and imagining what his friends might be doing just a few feet away.

"_What have you done to him, Lex! Man, if you've hurt him I'll kill you, you piece of shit!"_

Bart's voice now – angry, emotional. As he listened he thought he heard a thud, followed by a gasp of pain; the teenager was clearly venting his fury on Lex.

Lex! Lex knew everything, Lex knew where he was hidden! Jimmy's gut twisted into a knot as he realised that his fate now lay in the hands of Lex Luthor – one word from him, and all would be lost.

"_He's alive! It's okay, he's alive!"_

Chloe's voice again, this time filled with relief.

"_Oliver, are you alright? What happened? Who attacked you?"_

Oliver must have regained consciousness. Jimmy tensed, waiting for Oliver's answer.

"_I don't know - one of LuthorCorp's goons, I guess. Whoever it was, they hit me from behind – I didn't get a look at his face."_

Again, Jimmy experienced a release of emotion. Oliver would not expose him – but what about Lex?

"_It's just not your lucky night, is it, Lex? One of your goons takes out Ollie and then leaves you all chained up - you really do need to employ better people, do you know that?"_

Jimmy knew that Victor's words were Lex's cue; if he was going to reveal the truth, now would be the moment.

"_I'll bear that in mind for the future."_

Lex's reply was short, delivered in a calm, measured tone.

"_Hey, where you're going, baldy, you're not going to be hiring for a long time."_

Jimmy waited for Lex to reply to Bart's jibe, but none came. Seconds ticked by, and the conversation in the room beyond moved on to AC, and how to release him from the tank. Jimmy was only half listening, his mind struggling to come to terms with the fact that once again fate had intervened to save him from discovery, and certain disaster. Why had Lex not exposed him? It would have been so easy, and the truth about what Jimmy had done would surely have hurt Oliver, a motive always uppermost in Lex's mind. Jimmy, however, quickly realised that Lex's calculations had led him to a different conclusion. He was a prisoner now, facing an uncertain future. It would serve no purpose to reveal Jimmy's betrayal; Lex was going to need all the allies he could get in the weeks and months ahead. Much to his own surprise, Jimmy realised that for Lex, _he_ was now the man on the inside, the traitor who could yet deliver him from the League and Oliver's brand of justice. And if that was not bad enough, Lex had the power to make him do whatever he wanted, simply by threatening to reveal the truth.....

Jimmy shuddered at that last thought. He had not escaped the consequences of his actions yet, not by a long way.

However, that was all for the future. The room beyond had now fallen silent, indicating that Oliver, Chloe and the others had made their escape.

Jimmy heaved a sigh of relief. He had survived – at least for now.

* * *

"_And now to the story that has gripped America – the discovery, alive and well, of billionaire Oliver Queen."_

The voice of the TV news anchor signalled that what Bart had been waiting for had finally arrived.

"This is it, guys – he's on!"

Bart's voice sounded through the penthouse, summoning the others to gather around the television. The teenager, usually slumped across the couch, sat on the edge of his seat, staring eagerly at the screen. He was soon joined by Victor, Chloe and Jimmy, all of them watching with anticipation for the news report to unfold. Seven days had passed since their escape from the LuthorCorp building, seven days which had seemed to pass by in a blur. Their first priority had been AC. When they had removed him from the tank the young hero had been unconscious, and for hours after he showed no signs of recovery. Anxiety had turned to relief, however, when at last he had come round, seemingly no worse for wear; ironically Lex's treatment had healed him of the terrible wounds that Carter had inflicted on him. Their joy at seeing their friend restored once more soon gave way to waves of exhaustion, as the effects of the ordeal that they had all suffered finally overtook them. For two days an eerie silence descended on the penthouse, as they all slept long hours of deep, restorative sleep. When at last they began to come round, the challenge of explaining Oliver's miraculous return from the dead became the first priority. A cover story was meticulously prepared, and statements were issued to the press; the media, already in a frenzy over the mysterious disappearance of Lex, had immediately gone into meltdown. A press conference at Queen Industries was hastily arranged, and so here they were, waiting expectantly along with the world's media for the appearance of Oliver Queen, back from the dead for a second time. They all watched in rapt attention as the newsreader began to outline the background to a story that by now few in America could have failed to hear.

"_Oliver Queen, the billionaire CEO of Queen Industries who was thought to have been killed in an air crash over the Caribbean almost a month ago, was found alive on a remote island on Thursday. Rescue services had given up their search for him two weeks ago, and he was presumed lost in an accident that had tragically mirrored the crash that had claimed the lives of his parents some twenty years ago. However, in a quite remarkable twist, it now appears that Queen Industries employed a private company to continue the search, and after hundreds of hours scouring the ocean and countless uninhabited islands, they found their boss on a small island three hundred miles east of Jamaica, hungry but otherwise unharmed. What makes this story even more incredible is that this is not the first time that Oliver Queen has returned from the dead after being marooned on a desert island; seven years ago he spent nearly a year on an uninhabited island in the Pacific after his yacht was sunk in a tropical storm. Earlier today the man of the hour gave a brief press conference, and our reporter Steve Fenton was there. Steve, how did he appear to you? Were there any signs of the ordeal that he has been through these past few weeks?"_

"Dude, if you only knew what the big guy has been through!" said Bart, prompting the others to tell him to hush.

"_Jim, Mr Queen looked remarkably well as he answered questions from the world's media. As you can hear from this clip, he was eager to thank those who had never given up hope of finding him alive."_

Film of the press conference then flashed up on the screen, with Oliver fielding questions from what appeared to be an army of journalists. The reporter had been right; apart from one or two minor cuts to his face, he appeared relatively unscathed – at least on the outside. As Chloe watched she couldn't help but wonder how his ordeal at the hands of Lex and Akunin had affected him on the inside. He seemed to be his old self, the darling of the media with his ready charm and effortless smile, but what lasting damage had been done to the man she loved? Would he ever truly recover, and be the Oliver Queen that she had fallen in love with?

"Hey, I don't look half bad, even if I do say so myself."

Oliver's familiar voice caused all four to spin round. He stood watching them from the door to the elevator; so focused had they been on the coverage of the press conference that they had not noticed his arrival. Chloe's heart leapt as he smiled at them, the same wonderful smile that she had just seen put to such effective use at the press conference. She felt relief at his return; ever since they had got back to the penthouse she could not bear to be apart from him, even for an instant.

"That was one classy performance, dude!" said Bart, leading the others across to where Oliver stood. "You blew them away, man – blew them away!"

"Did they buy it?" asked Victor, a hint of concern in his voice; unlike Bart, he knew that one good performance at a press conference didn't necessarily mean that the cover story would hold up.

"Oh, they bought it, Victor," replied Oliver, his words full of certainty. "If it had to, Queen Industries could convince the world that the earth was flat. Convincing a few journalists that I've just spent a month on a desert island – well, that's just child's play."

"And you – you're okay, aren't you?" said Chloe.

"I'm fine now that I'm with you again," said Oliver, taking Chloe in his arms and pulling her close to his body. He then kissed her – a lingering, uninhibited kiss, as if being away from Chloe for even a couple of hours had been an unbearable absence. Chloe responded to the touch of his lips against hers, surrendering herself to the moment. They appeared utterly lost in each other's embrace, apparently oblivious to the eyes of the three men that looked on.

"Whoah, get a room guys!" said Bart, unable to contain himself at the sight of the two of them.

Chloe and Oliver separated, smiling broadly at each other.

"And you're packed?" said Oliver, looking at Chloe.

She nodded.

"I won't be away long – and when I get back, I promise you the trip of a lifetime."

Again they kissed, as if they were two teenagers sharing the excitement of first love all over again. Victor and Bart exchanged glances, before turning and walking away. Jimmy followed, but not before his eyes had once more taken in the passion of the two lovers. Outwardly he appeared unfazed by what he saw, a thin, indulgent smile forming on his lips. Inside, however, the flame of jealousy that had burned within him for so long flamed brightly once more. Gone was any sense of shame at what he had done, or any gratitude for the good fortune that had allowed him to escape the consequences of his betrayal. Instead he could only think of one thing – how it should have been him, and not Oliver, who was kissing Chloe at that moment. A grim feeling of resolution once more took hold of him, disfiguring his soul as it had done before.

It wasn't over – not by a long way. He would break Chloe and Oliver apart, and he would make Chloe his own.

And nothing – not even the man who was the Green Arrow – would stop him.

* * *

So they all escaped - including Jimmy! Sorry to those of you who wanted to see him die, but he survives for a reason, as you'll see in the next chapter. And that chapter will be the last - we're nearly there! Will Jimmy be exposed? What happened to Lex? Both questions will be answered, and there will also be something for Chlollie fans.

Please do leave some feedback if you can - it means a lot. I'll try to post the last chapter next week, but the way life is at the moment it is more likely to go up in two weeks time. Please be patient, but I want to get the climax to the story right.


	39. Chapter 39: The End?

**Chapter Thirty Nine: The End?**

"We're here, sir."

The voice of the pilot caused Oliver to awake with a start. Immediately he was aware that he had been asleep for some time; he could feel the nourishing effect on his body that only the deepest rest could bring. A glance at his watch confirmed what he already knew. It was seven in the evening, a good two hours since he had set off in the Queen Industries helicopter from Metropolis. He had slept for almost the entire journey, his body once more surrendering to the effects of the chronic fatigue that still affected him, almost a week after he had escaped from the LuthorCorp building. How long would it take him to recover from his ordeal? Physically he was healing up well, and he knew in time that his strength would return. But inside.... that was a different matter altogether. Too often in the last seven days his dreams had turned to nightmares, as memories of what he had experienced during those long days in captivity returned to haunt him. And one face seemed to dominate his nightmares, returning time and time again, as if to claim him from beyond the grave.

Akunin.

Oliver could not shake the memory of her face, staring up at him as she lay dying on the floor of Thomas's laboratory. There had been a terrible certainty in her expression, as if she knew that even in death she could not be denied the victory over him that had become her obsession.

"_You'll always be mine, Oliver – you'll never escape me."_

Was she right? Would he ever be able to put behind him the horror of what she had done to him, the shame of allowing himself to be violated with such casual ease? These were questions he could not answer, and the doubt that he felt continued to gnaw away at him, even as his physical wounds disappeared from view. All he did know was that he would not share his fears with anyone – not even Chloe. He wanted nothing to spoil the joy of their reunion, or the special moment that he had planned, and which was now only a few hours away. He would not allow Akunin to ruin their happiness – not now, not after all they had been through. He would keep his nightmares to himself, and hope against hope that time would once again prove to be the great healer.

Eager to push his anxieties to the back of his mind, he glanced down at the empty Montana landscape below. His eyes quickly picked out the cluster of buildings in the near distance which were to be their destination. The Little Wood Facility was Queen Industries' most secret installation. An apparently anonymous group of farm buildings miles from anywhere, it housed some of Oliver's most sensitive research projects. Its staff was small, but all had been thoroughly vetted and their loyalty was beyond question. Security at the facility was unobtrusive, so as not to attract attention, but were an intruder to attempt to gain unauthorised access then they would get the shock of their lives; a network of hidden defence and surveillance systems had the capacity to repel a small army. Impregnable and unnoticed, Little Wood was the obvious choice to take on a new role – a prison for Lex Luthor.

As the helicopter touched down inside the perimeter fence Oliver spotted a familiar figure emerging from one of the buildings to greet him. The sight of AC brought a smile to Oliver's face. The speed of the young man's recovery had been breathtaking, and when he had volunteered to lead the Little Wood operation there had been no reason to say no. After all he had been through, Oliver sensed that his friend needed to be busy again, and what better task could there be than to see Lex safely locked away in his new home?

Clambering out of the helicopter, Oliver's smile turned into a broad grin as he got a better look at AC. Physically there was no sign of the merciless beating he had received at the hands of Carter, but what really lifted Oliver's heart was to see the broad smile on the face of his friend. How long had it been since he'd seen that smile? AC had been through so much – drugged, tortured, the terror of a mock execution – and yet here he was, standing before him as strong and as vibrant as he had ever been. He seemed to embody the hope that Oliver so wanted to feel for the future. Perhaps things could return to how they had been before – despite everything, all the torments and humiliations, they had survived, after all. The League had been tested, and had come through its ordeal so much stronger; the smiling man who now came to greet him was testament to the endurance and power of the band of heroes Oliver had forged together from nothing.

The two men embraced, hugging each other like long lost brothers. Did they hug each other a little tighter, a little longer, than normal? Perhaps. Each knew what the other was thinking – there was no need for words. They owed each other their lives, and that bond, forged in the greatest adversity, was never going to be broken.

"So how is he?" asked Oliver, as eventually they let each other go.

"Lex? Oh, he's settling in just fine," replied AC, the smile on his face broadening to a huge grin. "Come on – I'll show you."

Oliver followed AC into the building from which he had emerged. The two men then passed down three long corridors and through four security checkpoints before they reached an elevator. As Oliver descended the four levels that would take him to where Lex was being held, he could not help but think back to his descent into captivity in the LuthorCorp building. How had Lex felt as he had taken this journey? Had he felt any regret, any remorse at his crimes? Knowing Lex as he did, Oliver suspected not; the only thing Lex would have been thinking would have been how to escape. How sweet the irony that Lex should end up a prisoner of the very man he had intended to destroy, held in a manner so similar to the way in which he had been held. There was one difference, of course; for Lex there would be no happy ending, no escape from the prison that now contained him.

It was only a short walk from the foot of the elevator shaft to where Lex was being kept, and as Oliver approached his enemy's cell he felt his pulse quicken. This was his first encounter with his nemesis since they had escaped from the LuthorCorp building, and to his surprise he found a certain nervousness mixed with his expected feelings of triumph. Even tamed, Lex was still able to exercise a power over him; he needed to face him down, draw a line under his war with the Luthors once and for all.

The cell was exactly as he had specified, down to the last detail. There were no shackles, no instruments of torture, but instead just a simple room, sparsely furnished with a bed, a chair and a table. There were no windows, and the cameras trained on every inch of the space made sure that no movement of the prisoner would go unnoticed. Perhaps the most striking feature of the cell was that one side of it was made entirely of reinforced glass, with holes drilled at strategic intervals to allow for the passage of sound and air. This wall of glass separated the cell from the corridor, allowing visitors full view of what lay beyond.

Dominating the chamber was the figure of Lex, standing in the center of the room as if he had been waiting for Oliver's arrival. Dressed in a prison uniform, he nonetheless still gave off an air of arrogant authority, as if he were about to address the board of LuthorCorp.

For a moment there was silence, as the two adversaries stared at each other. So much had passed between them, but neither could have expected it would end like this – Lex the prisoner, and Oliver his jailer.

"I wondered how long you'd take to get here," said Lex finally, his voice emotionless and controlled. It was clear to Oliver that he was determined to show no sign of weakness; even in defeat Lex would want to score some kind of victory, however small.

"Just wanted to see how you're settling in," replied Oliver. "I know it's not the cage you designed for me, but if you'd rather I moved you to something similar, then I'm sure I can arrange it."

"No, no – "Silence of the Lambs" is one of my favourite movies, and I've always had something of a soft spot for Hannibal Lechter."

The faintest hint of a smile crossed Oliver's lips. He had modelled the chamber on his recollection of the famous cell from that movie, and was glad that the allusion had not been lost on Lex.

"Fellow feeling for a monster, Lex? Is that self-knowledge I'm detecting?"

"Lechter was convicted in a court of law, Oliver. What court has convicted me? The court of Oliver Queen? But of course you can't put me before a court, can you? Because then I'd be able to tell the world about your double life, and that would be the end of the Green Arrow, wouldn't it?"

"Think what you like, Lex – it makes no difference. You're going to pay for your crimes – I'm going to make sure you're never able to harm anyone ever again."

"I could say that people will be looking for me, but I suspect you've taken care of that."

Again Oliver allowed himself a half smile; Lex knew him too well.

"Dr Thomas is a brilliant man, Lex, although when he developed his memory altering drugs I doubt he ever thought they would be used on him. Neither he nor your goons have any recollection of me, the Green Arrow, or what happened to you. All they know is what the press knows – that there was a fire in the basement of the LuthorCorp building, that two chared corpses were discovered in the wreckage, and that you're missing. The story's been big news, Lex – your disappearance made the network news for a couple of nights. That is, until my miraculous rescue pushed you off the front page – I guess even at the last the Luthors can't compete with the power of the Queen name."

"Impressive – you really have covered all the bases. But then I would expect nothing less from you, Oliver."

Lex's voice had lost none of its iron self-control, but beneath his air of studied calm rage seethed within him. How had it come to this? How, after all those months of planning, had the victory that he had longed for slipped from his grasp? He had been so close! Everything had been perfect, only for it all to disappear in an instant. And now it was he who was the prisoner, a captive of a man for whom he felt nothing but utter loathing. The anger that he felt as he looked at Oliver through the glass was so overpowering it seemed at times as if it would overwhelm him, drive him to throw himself at the screen in some futile attempt to strike at the man who seemed destined to haunt him forever. But he knew he had to tame his rage, deny his adversary the satisfaction of seeing him lose control. The game had changed, and he had to adapt – or all would be lost.

"You know me, Lex – I like to be thorough."

For a few moments there was silence once more, each man wondering what the other would say next.

"Well enjoy your stay, Lex," said Oliver, deciding that he had seen enough. "AC here will look after you – I'm sure he'll offer you the same level of hospitality that you offered him."

Lex did not reply, but simply stared coldly at his captor. Oliver paused for a moment, before turning as if to leave.

"You know this isn't over, don't you, Oliver?" said Lex, causing Oliver to stop in his tracks. "I will get out of here, sooner or later. And when I do I will come after you, Oliver, and I will destroy you. I will destroy your precious band of freaks, I will destroy your precious Chloe, and then I will destroy you. You should have killed me when you had the chance, Oliver, because one day I _will_ kill you – on that you have my word."

There was that certainty again – the certainty that Akunin had had as she had made her terrible promise. Despite himself, a shudder ran down Oliver's spine; just at that moment, despite all that reason was telling him about the impossibility of Lex making good on his promise, Oliver believed him.

Oliver looked over his shoulder, taking one last look at the foe he had at last defeated.

"Goodbye, Lex."

And with that he turned, and walked away.

Lex listened as the sound of Oliver's footsteps faded down the corridor. Rage continued to fill his mind, but not despair. His plans were in tatters, and all appeared lost, but Lex's words had been far from an idle threat, the defiance of a man who knew the war was lost. He intended to make good on his promise. He would escape from this cell, and he would destroy Oliver, no matter how long it took. And something within him told him that he might get his opportunity sooner than he might have any right to expect. After all, he knew something that Oliver didn't know, something that ultimately could help him to achieve the turnaround in his fortunes he craved.

He knew the true heart of Jimmy Olsen.

And Lex was certain that, sooner or later, the apparently harmless photographer would help him bring the world of Oliver Queen crashing to the ground.

* * *

Was this all a dream?

It seemed like such a clichéd question to ask, and yet for Chloe at that moment nothing came closer to capturing how she felt. She had experienced such a rollercoaster of emotions in recent weeks: the joy of her blossoming relationship with Oliver, the trauma and despair of his apparent death, the miracle of his discovery and rescue. And now, to find herself in a chauffeur driven limousine driving down the Champs Elysee in Paris, the love of her life by her side, well, couldn't she be forgiven for asking whether it really was all real? It seemed so long ago that Oliver had promised to take her to Paris, like a promise made in another life, but here they were, together at last. No wonder she could not stop pinching herself – who would ever have imagined that after all they had been through, this dream would come true?

She glanced across at Oliver, who sat staring out of the window as the chic boutiques of the city's most exclusive district sped by. He'd taken her to those very shops earlier in the day, and, Oliver being Oliver, no expense had been spared as she was allowed to indulge her wildest retail fantasises in some of the world's most exclusive fashion houses. He'd been at his sparkling best – witty, debonair, and so devastatingly sexy. He'd turned heads wherever he went, and it gave her a thrill to realise that despite all the attention he was receiving, he only had eyes for her. That, more than all the jewels, all the designer clothes, was what had really made the day special.

Now, however, as the sun began to set over the Seine as they turned in the direction of the Eiffel Tower, he'd fallen strangely quiet. Was he thinking about the future, or the past? Chloe did not know. He'd not really opened up to her about what had happened to him during his long period in captivity, and that worried her. She'd tried to persuade him to talk, but had backed off when it became clear that it was somewhere he didn't want to go. What had they done to him? His wounds had heeled up, and on the surface he was the same old Oliver, but deep down, what damage had been done? She wished he would talk to her, because she so wanted to help him, to offer him the support and love he needed to achieve the true inner healing he so deserved. But these things could not be rushed, she knew that – he would talk to her when he was ready, and when that moment came, she would be there for him.

Whatever concerns Chloe continued to harbour about Oliver were temporarily pushed aside as the limousine began to slow, easing to a halt alongside the unmistakable structure of the Eiffel Tower. As she strained her neck upwards to catch a glimpse of the top of the immense iron monument from inside the car she felt a frisson of excitement; she had always wanted to visit one of the world's most famous landmarks, and to do so now, with Oliver by her side, promised to be the perfect ending to a perfect day. Oliver quickly got out and went around the car to open her door, offering her his hand as she stepped from the vehicle. It was only then that she became aware of the hordes of tourists apparently leaving the site, and the signs which declared that the tower was closing early for the evening.

Chloe's heart sank; she had so wanted to round off her day in the city of lovers in Oliver's arms, watching the sun set from the top of the tower.

"Looks like our luck just ran out," she said, crestfallen. "And I was so looking forward to going to the top."

"And who says you can't?" said Oliver, a glint in his eye.

"Look at the signs, Ollie – they're closing early."

"Meaning?" he replied, not seeming to understand what for Chloe was the blindingly obvious.

"Meaning we can't go up," said Chloe, a hint of exasperation in her voice; Ollie playing dumb was not what she wanted at that moment.

"We can if they've closed for us."

Chloe barely had time to take in what Oliver had said before a uniformed official approached them.

"Monsieur Queen, so good to see you. Everything is as you requested. Please, follow me."

Chloe looked at Oliver, her mouth agape.

"Oliver, you haven't!"

Oliver simply grinned at Chloe, clearly delighting in the expression of amazement on her face. He then took her by the hand, and together they followed the official to one of the elevators that would allow them to ascend the tower.

Ten minutes later and Chloe found herself stepping from the small elevator that gave access to the highest level of the tower. She still couldn't quite believe this was happening, but then where Oliver was concerned, she guessed she should have learned to expect the impossible by now. However, even by his standards, this was something special; taking over the Eiffel Tower for an evening seemed too fantastic for words. As they had travelled upwards she had told him he shouldn't have, that she really wasn't worth the enormous expense that he must have incurred through such extravagance. He was having none of it, of course, and had silenced her in a way that only he could, with a kiss of such tenderness and depth that it turned her already melting heart to mush.

And now they had reached their destination, the top of the tower. The first thing Chloe saw was a small dining table, immaculately laid for two; a waiter stood discretely nearby, a bottle poised in his hand. Then her eyes moved out, over the city. The warm glow of the setting sun gave the vista a beauty that almost took her breath away, and she found herself being drawn towards the parapet, staring far out into the distance, towards Sacre Coeur and beyond.

Magical.

That was the only word that she could find to describe the moment.

Magical.

"Oliver, this is the most....." Chloe's words tailed off as she turned back towards him, to find the young man standing nervously at her side. He was wearing the same white suit that he had worn when she had first set eyes upon him, all those months ago in Metropolis. Then he had seemed so unattainable, the man of mystery from Star City. Now, his hair catching the golden rays of the setting sun, he looked as perfect as she had ever seen him, but it was not that which caused her to catch her breath. Instead it was the expression on his face – boyish, uncertain, innocent - and, above all, the tiny box that he clasped in his right hand.

"Chloe, I....." he began, apparently struggling to find the words. He seemed awkward, and very far from the suave man about town of earlier in the day. What was wrong with him? What was he trying to say? Surely it couldn't be? He wasn't....was he?

"Chloe, when I was locked up I had a lot of time to think. To think about us, what you mean to me, about our future together."

He paused, his voice almost trembling as he struggled to find the words. Chloe, hardly daring to hope that what she believed was about to take place was really going to happen, stood rooted to the spot, unable to speak.

"What I'm trying to say," he continued, looking deep into her wide, expectant eyes. "What I'm trying to say is that I love you, and that I can't bear the thought of ever being without you."

She wanted to respond, but the words would not come.

_Please let him say those words! Please make this the most perfect moment of my life!_

He looked down at the tiny box he clasped in his hand, before gently pulling back the lid. Inside lay a ring, which glinted in the light of the setting sun.

He looked up, and their eyes, now so full of expectation, wonderment and love, met once more.

"Chloe, will you marry me?"

**THE END**

* * *

It's finished! I can hardly believe it - when I started writing this back in December I never dreamed it would run to 39 chapters and more than 100 000 words. I hope you enjoyed this last installment - the ending is dedicated to all you Chlollie lovers out there who keep the flame burning for the relationship we all so desperately want to see!

I've written the ending like the ending to a season. On one level the story is finished - Lex is behind bars, Oliver is free and his secret identity is intact, and he and Chloe are set to get married and live their lives together. However, on another level I've deliberately left some things open - what will Jimmy do next? Will Lex escape? Will Chloe and Oliver enjoy happiness, or will events and people drive them apart? The truth is I've got ideas about how I might continue this story into a new phase. I've got at least two, maybe three, stories in my head, involving new villains and a huge amount of angst and danger for our favorite couple. I suppose in my mind I've got stories for the Green Arrow show that I **so **want to see on screen, but probably never will.

Will I write these stories? At the moment I honestly don't know. Part of me wants to, but part of me isn't certain - writing is such a massive commitment, and I need to be certain in my mind that I will finish anything I start. If I do decide to write more, I'll probably get under way in three or four weeks time, so check back then. In the meantime I'm going to enjoy the new season, enjoy every Ollie moment, and look forward to those precious hints of Chlollie we all want to see.

Thanks for reading - I really hope you've enjoyed it. And can I say a last **MASSIVE **thankyou to every single person who has taken the time to post a review. You have no idea how much your words mean to me - I really wouldn't have finished this without you. If you could post one last review I'd so appreciate it. Tell me what you think, and whether you want me to carry on writing - what you say will help me to make up my mind about whether to carry on.

Stay well, and maybe see you soon.


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